Like Father, Like Son
by Katya Jade
Summary: A story about Methos and a significant time in his past.
1. Chapter One

I have come back to this story and tweaked some things in the first few chapters and have finally (I think) broken through the ungodly writer's block. I hope you enjoy the way this story has evolved.

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_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda._

* * *

Time. Mortals are slaves to it. They scurry around to this place and that, always worried that there won't be enough time to get everything done or to enjoy the short life they live. A long time ago he might have been concerned about such things. Running errands. Obsessed with how many hours are in the day. How much time he had to get things done. But living for thousands of years tends to take the edge off time. Long ago, time had become more of a burden than a blessing.

Mortals count time with milestones. Birthdays. Anniversaries. "Happy New Year!" they shout with gleeful anticipation of beginning the year anew. Another chance to reconcile themselves from their past indiscretions and attempt to live a guilt-free, happy life. Immortals don't celebrate such things. At least those immortals who are too old to remember such milestones don't rejoice at the passing of another year; or a birthday which might be August or September- one can't remember after so many years, after all; or an anniversary of another lost loved one.

The seasons are what remind him of those milestones now. After thousands of years and thousands of lovers, wives, friends and enemies, Methos was reminded of those he had outlived by the seasons that passed. He could no longer remember those important dates the mortals etched into their calendars.

He simply remembered the brisk winter night in small house he had built in the Icelandic countryside. He could still see the snow falling outside and his beloved Ana sleeping by his side. How long had they been together before she died of pneumonia? Thirty years? Forty?

He remembered the warm summer day when the clansmen of his wife, Mariam, celebrated the harvest and performed their rituals to ensure their stores for the winter. They were such a giving and loving family. He tried to remember if it was they who perished under the sword of his enemies. He couldn't quite remember. The details wove themselves together like a twisted dream. He was angry with himself that these people were relegated to the recesses of his memory. He couldn't even drag their names from his mind any longer. Names of those who had loved and cared for him. Names of the men and women who, at one time, were the most important people in his life.

All these things passed through his mind as he sat outside Joe's club in Paris nursing what was to be his 3rd beer of the morning. The spring air of April and all its scents and sounds washed over his senses. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to bask in the day. He took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of fresh lavender. He heard the small, delicate chirps of the baby birds awaiting their morning meal. He took in the wonderful aroma of rain slowly wasting away under the increasing heat of the mid- morning sun. The seasons helped him to remember. And there were times in his interminably long life he wanted, desperately, to remember. But there were other times, other memories, he just wished he could forget.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Eyes closed, he smiled his lopsided and disarming smile as his friend Joe Dawson pulled up a chair beside him.

"I rather think that for the amount of thoughts in my head it would be worth a great deal more than a penny."

Joe smiled, "I guess I can't argue that. Your knowledge of ancient sandalmaking techniques makes your bidding price at least seventy five cents." Joe paused. His friend appeared decidedly more melancholy than usual. "What's on that impressive but intense mind of yours, buddy?"

Methos took another swig of his beer and sighed. "I'm tired, Joe. Just tired." His English accent thicker due to the combination of exhaustion and beer, he said, "After all these years, the people who meant so much to me have become footnotes in a genealogy book. I try to remember them but sometimes all I get are confusing pictures in my head. I can't figure out if my memories are right or if I'm slopping them all together like a bad acid trip."

Shifting forward in his chair, Methos placed his beer on the table and cradled his head in his hands. "It's unnatural, Joe. I'm unnatural. I've lived longer than any immortal on earth and for what? I'm tired of going on. Outliving my friends. Killing others who want my head. Watching history move by me without a wink and having nothing to show for it."

"Do you think you're the only immortal who feels this way, Methos? I mean, don't you think that Mac or Darius or Hugh all felt like this at one time or another?" Trying to lighten his friend's mood, Joe chuckled. "Hey, maybe you're just going through your bi-millennial life crisis."

Methos' head snapped up and glared at his friend. "This isn't a joke, Joe. I'm serious. Do you know what it's like to live 5,000 years? To see the dawn of civilizations? To witness the birth of nations and the death of its people by wars...famine...plagues? I live day by day. Waking up each morning wondering if today will be the day that finds my head separated from my body. And no one will care. You might weep a little. Duncan will do his almighty revenge kick, but ultimately, no one will remember that I even existed."

He paused and began giving absentminded attention to the small ladybug slowly making its way over his middle knuckle with a path up his wrist. So small. So innocent. So beautiful. Methos sighed and sat back in his chair. He continued his study of the small creature as he spoke.

"Joe, there's something I've never told anyone. Not even Duncan."

Joe moved forward in his seat and watched Methos intently. 'This sounds too interesting to be good.', Joe thought to himself. He wasn't sure if this would be a revelation that he could handle. In all his study of Methos and his life, there were things that he had done that would curl Hitler's toes.

Joe steeled himself and said. "You know you can talk to me, Methos."

* * *

The North of England, 1754

The spring days in the English countryside were breathtaking. The flowers seemed to glow with every color in the spectrum. The pinks, yellows and reds of the flowers and leaves seem to explode around every corner. Methos often rode this path in the late afternoon just before dusk when the sun crested over the hills to the west. He loved to see how the colors changed when the sun's rays grew darker and deeper with each passing moment. Every night he noticed something different and marveled at the intricacies of nature.

As a rule, his route very rarely brought him in contact with other people. He enjoyed the solitude, but at times it began to weigh on him heavily. There are points in an immortal's life where being around other people only aggravates their sense of isolation. It's as if being around mortals makes those who can't die aware that they will see their loved ones pass around them century after century. On this glorious day, however, Methos simply wished to share the beauty of all he saw with someone else.

He was lost in that thought when he came upon a richly adorned coach in a small clearing off the side of the main road. 'Hmm...not gypsies.', he thought to himself. A rather portly man stood outside the carriage examining the rear wheel, which had sustained a severe enough collision to be broken in half.

A second man, a good deal younger, moved about gathering luggage and containers that had been flung from the top of the carriage when the wheel had broken and, evidently, dragged the vehicle along until resting to a stop among a grove of wild rose bushes.

Both men were dressed as servants, but in a simpler and understated way than was customary for the very rich. As Methos moved his stallion toward the carriage, both attendants looked up.

"You gentlemen seem to be in need of some assistance this fine evening."

Methos was not offended or surprised when the two men began moving closer together as if preparing for an altercation. The forests in the 18th century were not exactly choice picnicking spots, especially if one had any wealth. To be stranded in one at night was, for even the bravest of men, quite an intimidating thought. These men were obviously very protective of the items under their care as they stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the carriage.

The luggage-gatherer was the first to speak. "Thank you, my lord, but we have the situation quite under control."

The young man couldn't have been more than twenty but stood with his chest arched out in a vain attempt to look intimidating. The portly man who had been examining the broken wheel was older, maybe forty, with a plain face and receding hairline. In a fight, neither would prove to be a serious challenge.

Methos dismounted his horse and surveyed the scene around the would-be protectors. He smirked. "My good lad, unless you can carve a new wheel out of one of these trees with your bare hands, I do believe you shall be spending the night in this forest." Methos stooped down and picked up a slightly bent and scuffed hatbox and handed it to the large girthed wheel-examiner.

Methos smiled. "Now, I suggest you allow me to escort you to my home where you may rest for the night. My servants will return with you in the morning to assist in the repair of your coach."

The two men looked at each other, a silent debate playing in their eyes. The older man spoke, "Well, sir..."

"...we would be most grateful for your assistance and honored at the prospect of your hospitality."

The third voice came from inside the carriage. It was obviously feminine. 'So that's the cargo they were trying to protect.' He thought to himself.

As the door of the carriage began to open, the young attendant moved to offer her his assistance. A delicate, bare hand found its way to the attendant and a young woman emerged.

No more than twenty-five, she was of average height and possessed rich auburn hair and startling green eyes. In the light of the evening, Methos could tell that her complexion was fair but not a stranger to the sun. She wore a simple but elegant travel dress and wore no jewelry.

She smiled lightly at her attendant. "Thank you, James." Stepping forward, she looked up at the face of a uniquely handsome man. She smiled and curtseyed. "My name is Eleonore Huntington." Glancing back toward the coach she said. "I'm sure you understand the need for me to remain inside the carriage until I could determine your intentions."

Methos bowed. He reached for her right hand and placed a delicate kiss on top of her brown glove. "The pleasure is entirely mine, Ms. Huntington." She was beautiful. Just by looking at her and the way she carried herself, he did not believe for one minute that she would hide trembling in her carriage should trouble come her way. He had a feeling that anyone who tried to tangle with this woman would find him or herself on the other side of a tigress.

"Please call me Eleonore. After all, if I'm to take you up on your generous offer, I think we should be on a first-name basis, don't you?" She smiled and found the deep, rich, hazel eyes of the stranger. Her eyes conveyed both intelligence and strength. He found it charming that her head tilted ever so slightly to the left when she spoke. "May I know the name of the handsome stranger who has come to my rescue or do you wish to remain an anonymous savior?"

He hadn't done it for centuries, but now, in the presence of this unique woman...Methos blushed. Luckily at the same moment, his horse decided that more interesting things were happening in the bushes to the right and the animal moved in front of his master.

'She's a handful, alright.', Methos thought to himself. As the color in his face returned to normal, he let go of the reins and allowed his beloved stallion a well deserved break.

He rubbed his chin as if deep in thought from her question. "Well, well. I'm in quite a quandary here. I often rescue beautiful women in these woods. Every other day in fact, and I make it a practice not to let out my true identity." He crossed his arms over his chest. "After all, once the word spread, there'd be no end to the rescues and it would be work, work, work all the time."

The two attendants looked at each other and rolled their eyes. It was obvious that this man was no more a threat to Eleonore Huntington than a rabbit. They knew she was a flirt, but today, she may well have met her match. They went back to gathering the items they would take with them for the night.

Eleonore moved closer to the tall stranger. "I'll make you a bargain. I won't tell anyone about your rescue if you won't tell anyone that my...delicate items were strewn about the woods for anyone to see. My reputation would be in serious question."

His mouth curved in a mischievous smile as he noticed that, indeed, Eleonore's clothes had been strewn about the area and many of her 'unmentionable' items were on display for everyone to see.

He turned, clasped his hands behind his back and took several steps toward her. He stopped only a foot away and looked down at her amazing eyes. "My name is William Christian and I am more than delighted to keep your secret. Your reputation is safe with me."

Men weren't intimidating to Eleonore. She had been raised without a mother and her father insisted that she be educated as well as a man. She was smart, independent and confident with no need for a husband or a protector. When she was in the presence of a man, she never fluttered about, pretending to be some delicate creature. Most of the men she'd met were boring, pretentious and full of their own importance. Many times, Eleonore found herself chatting with the servants rather than forcing herself to entertain a boorish suitor. But this man was different. In his presence she was nervous and excited. No one had ever made her feel as if she wasn't in control of the situation, but William Christian managed to engage every one of her senses as no other man had.

She wanted desperately to regain control of herself. "Well, Mr. Christian...William. Thank you again for your help. Shall we gather some of our necessary items and begin the journey to your home?" She turned and began picking up some of the items on the ground and placing them in her carriage.

Methos was interested. More than interested, actually. He was committed to finding out more about Eleonore Huntington. It had been a long time, centuries in fact, since he had met someone with her confidence and poise. The women to whom he gave his heart belonged to a specific category. Beautiful, self-assured and witty. She fit right in. It wasn't often he met someone who could hold her own with him and he didn't want to let that get away.

They assembled the items needed for their short trip and prepared to begin their trek to Methos' estate. He took Eleonore by the arm and walked her to his horse. "I'll adjust the stirrups when you get up in the saddle."

She removed his hand from her arm and looked at him. The right side of her mouth rose in a sarcastic smirk. "Really, William. I am perfectly capable of walking to your home."

"But, it's a long walk and..."

Her hand rose up and stopped in front of his face. "I appreciate your concern and if I, or James or Matthew, are in need of it, we will be more than happy to ride your horse. Now, why don't we get going so we can be out of these woods before it gets too dark."

With that, Eleonore stooped down, picked up two bags and began walking down the path.

Methos watched her buoyantly walk down the darkening road. He turned to the attendants. "Is she always this stubborn?"

Matthew smiled and laughed softly. "My lord, you have no idea."


	2. Chapter Two

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_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda._

* * *

When they arrived at the estate, William excused himself to speak with his staff about the evening's arrangements. Eleonore was amazed by William's home. During the times she traveled with her father, she had seen many homes that were ostentatious and large for the sake of being large. William's was large, yes, but it bore a personality all its own. It was a sizable estate, yet it wasn't laid out like a typical English manor house. The design was unique. As if it the intent of the structure had been for a specific purpose that she couldn't quite deduce. She was intrigued as to why he had chosen this house of all the others in the area.

Eleonore continued to explore the rooms throughout the first floor. William had converted every one into showplaces for collections of artifacts from every conceivable period in history. She was astounded at how many items he had found to put in this place. It certainly showed the type of things in which William was interested. Weapons. Art. Ancient relics of strange and unknown origins. Books. Virtually anything one could imagine, William held in a location inside his home. Apparently this man was either entranced with history or obsessed with spending his money.

She walked into yet another room that held more weapons than she ever knew existed. She stood in front of one wall with swords mounted and labeled with their description and date of origin. Her hand caressed a sword labeled "Roman Gladiator. 177 BC." The hilt of the sword was intricately made. She moved closer to examine the scratches and gauges in the side of the instrument. Although beautifully maintained, she could see where the gladiator that held the sword had fought for his life with every blow he struck.

She looked around to make sure she was alone in the room. Gently and reverently, she picked up the sword and held it in her hands. It was heavier than she had anticipated. 'The strength it must have taken to wield one of these.' She marveled. Eleonore began to move, tracing invisible lines in the air where her imaginary adversary stood.

Methos remained just outside the door watching her as she moved gracefully through the room feeling the strength and weight of the weapon. Most women would have been disgusted by the virtual arsenal in this room. He remembered one particular aristocrat's daughter turning her nose up at him and remarking, "Weapons of war are vile and offensive. To display them in one's home shows a lack of decorum and a questionable upbringing."

Eleonore was obviously not another aristocrat's daughter, she was confident and intelligent. They hadn't spoken much on the way to his home. The conversation kept to the pleasantries of the day. Weather. The King and his court. The countryside and its beauty. He wasn't mistaken that although Eleonore displayed a fiery attitude and outspoken personality, she was not one to open herself up freely to a man she hardly knew. That guardedness made him all the more impatient to start the process of getting to know Eleonore Huntington very well.

He stepped in to the room while her back was turned. "You make a most impressive adversary, Ms. Huntington."

She jumped and turned toward him, sword displayed at her front. She let out a startled breath. "For a man who owns an extraordinary array of weapons, you surely aren't adept at sneaking up on your enemy."

Methos walked toward her, not deviating from the line of the sword facing him. "Well, my lady, first of all, if I had intended to sneak up on you, you wouldn't have known I was coming. Secondly, I'm sorry to say that you wouldn't stand a chance at beating your enemy with the way you hold that sword." He moved around behind her and placed his hands on top of hers. "First of all, you're holding it too low on the hilt. Move your hands up higher and you'll get a firmer hold." He moved her hand closer to the intricately detailed hand guard. "You control the blade from your shoulders, not with your wrists. Like this." His strong hands enclosed hers. He began to move the weapon back and forth, with slow, graceful movements.

Very rarely did Eleonore allow herself to be placed in a position where she wasn't in control. She knew how to hold her own in a room full of men and wasn't afraid to speak her mind. In the presence, the _very close_ presence, of William Christian, however, her typical behavior was lost. There was something about him that peaked her curiosity and made her want to be near him. Her eyes closed and she took in the smell of him. Overwhelming her senses. Although she wanted to stay in this position the entire day, she didn't want to be premature in her actions toward William. She quickly extricated herself from his embrace and moved to put the sword back in its display.

Laughing awkwardly, she found the wall clasps and raised the sword to meet them. "Well, I'm without a doubt _not_ going to be a gifted swordsman, that I can tell you." She finished placing the weapon and stood with her back to Methos.

"You underestimate yourself, Eleonore. I was being unfair when I told you that your hold wasn't very good. It's rare that a woman can hold a sword of that weight so confidently on her first try. You have a natural ability." He moved next to her, pretending to admire the other items on the wall. "So, are you going to tell me about yourself, or do I have to play 'question and answer'?"

She turned toward him, crossed her arms and smiled. "You really don't believe in being modest with women, do you, Mr. Christian?"

"Not when I find a woman as interesting as you, Ms. Huntington." He was beginning to see a different side of Eleonore – much to his delight. "Shall we continue this exploration of my museum…that is...my home, before we dine?" He offered her his arm. She stood for a moment, surveying his intentionally charming smile.

"You are a flirt, aren't you, William?"

"I'm surprised you noticed, Eleonore. What with you being such a shy and retiring sort." He took her hand and placed it on her arm. She smiled and he noticed a hint of redness in her cheeks. "Now, shall we go?"

As they walked through the great halls, Eleonore continued to be awed by the unique items held within its walls.

"Why did you choose to live in this place, William? Is it a family estate?"

He continued to look ahead while the right side of his mouth rose up in an absentminded smile. "A family estate. Yes. That's why there are so many things collected here. They were passed down generation after generation and now I find myself the reticent keeper of these artifacts."

"Tell me about the design, it's very different. I've never seen a home quite like it."

"I was wondering if you'd notice. It's actually a monastery built several centuries ago by Benedictine monks. I…my family found this place and felt that the very nature of the structure was sacred. They decided that this was a place to stay and settle down. I feel the same way. There's nothing quite like the secure feeling of living on holy ground."

"Holy ground. That's a beautiful way to put it. No wonder it's so peaceful here." She was just too curious not to ask the question that had been on her mind since she'd met him. "You have no family yourself? A wife, children?"

His eyes became distant, as if remembering some painful experience. She was such an idiot. How could she have been so meddlesome! "William, I'm sorry. I've upset you. Please…."

"No, don't worry." He patted her hand. "There are just some things in my past that I'd rather forget. Let's just say that I have no one that will inherit the things you see around you. I am the last of my line."

Eleonore was furious with herself. Her father always told her that she was too inquisitive for her own good. Now she had upset the man who'd been so kind to her.

"Since you broached the question of family, it's your turn. What brought you here?"

Her normal instinct would have been to change the subject and stay on a light and non-personal topic. She didn't make a habit of disclosing her personal life to people she hardly knew. But William was different. He made her feel as if they'd known each other much longer than one afternoon. She wanted to know this man and tell him all about herself.

"Well, my uncle lives just southeast of here in Lincolnshire. I'm on my way to see him and deliver his inheritance from my father. He died a few months ago."

Methos stopped and turned to look at her. "Eleonore, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"He had been sick for some time. Several years, in fact. I knew that his time was near, but that knowledge couldn't prepare me for actually losing him."

He knew all too well the feeling of loss. Even after centuries of it, he was never prepared for when someone he loved died. "No, I'm sure it didn't. How did your mother take the loss?"

"My mother passed on when I was very young – about 5. It was really my father and I against the world my entire life. He took care of me and I took care of him. He was a wonderful man and always treated me as his equal. He never groomed me to simply be the wife of some dim-witted aristocrat." Her gentle laughed rung through Methos' ears like music. "I think that until his last day, he truly believed I'd be the first woman in Parliament."

"I think your father was right, Ms. Huntington. You could do whatever you set your mind to."

She knew that he wasn't just flattering her and it made her heart skip a beat. "I didn't know my uncle very well, but I promised my father I'd take him the things he'd bequeathed him in his will. So, I sent him a message and he's invited me to stay for a month or so before I return."

"What is your uncle's name? Maybe I know him."

"Lord Arthur Huntington. I would be surprised if you _didn't_ know him. He is very wealthy and, according to my father, likes to make sure people know that."

Methos _did_ know Lord Arthur. He should have made the connection the minute she introduced herself. He had met him a few times in the local government meetings and he knew that the man loved to travel to London to flaunt his money and his perceived power. Although Methos didn't sense that the man was dangerous, he didn't like him nor did he trust him. He certainly didn't relish the idea of Eleonore staying at his house for an extended period of time.

"Yes, I have had the occasion to meet him. A very interesting man."

"Maybe you'll visit since it seems that you're not too far away." She prayed that William would take her up on the invitation. She dreaded the idea of being out in this area alone, even if she was at her uncle's home. Plus, she certainly wanted the opportunity to get to know William Christian better.

"I will most certainly have to pay a call or two during your stay. After all, a rescuer must ensure that the person he's rescued _stays_ well, you know. And I want to make sure that you stay well, Ms. Huntington."

He was a flirt, but most definitely knew what he was doing. She was beginning to feel that her little trip to her uncle's estate was going to be a life changing experience.


	3. Chapter Three

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_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda._

* * *

They left the estate by noon the following day. The servants had risen early and managed to get the carriage fixed in a very short time, much to both Methos and Eleonore's disappointment. They both wished that their time together could have lasted much longer.

Although a bit cloudy and colder that normal for the time of year, Eleonore was quite comfortable. She had persuaded her host to allow her the pleasure of riding alongside him during the trip. After all, according to William, it would only take a few hours to arrive at her uncle's home and she wanted to be near him as much as possible until they said goodbye.

The time she spent with William Christian the previous evening was unlike any other she could remember in her relatively short years. She had been fond of a few men in her life, but her feelings for William were different. Most of the noblemen she encountered were arrogant, self-absorbed and full of the idea that no woman could ever resist their charms. William, although playful and gifted with a wicked sense of humor, was most certainly the antithesis of a typical aristocrat. He was quiet, reserved and humble yet maintained the aura of strength and safety.

They had talked for hours about topics that she never would have broached with other people – _especially_ men – who were not in her closest confidence. As a result, she felt that, despite the fact that she had met William less than twenty-four hours earlier; she knew him as well as anyone in her life.

Methos glanced over at his riding partner and smiled to himself. Their talk the previous evening – and well into the morning hours - had stirred his soul more than he imagined it could be. He had long ago lost hope of finding another woman with whom he could talk and share his thoughts as intimately as he did with Eleonore. He hadn't wanted to let her go today. He had silently hoped all evening that his coachman would not be able to repair the wheel so quickly, but because he employed only the best people, Geoffrey had seen to it that the coach was in better shape than it was the previous day.

He realized that they would soon be approaching her uncle's estate and didn't want to miss a moment to tell her that he wanted to see her again. Quite frankly, he wanted to see her every day.

"Eleonore, before we get to your uncle's home, there's something I wanted to tell you."

With a soft laugh, Eleonore replied, "I would think after all we've talked about the last twenty-four hours, William, that you would have no difficulty speaking about anything that crossed your mind."

He loved to see her smile. Those emerald eyes sparkled when she laughed. He wanted to make her happy for the rest of her life.

The left side of his mouth raised in a knowing smirk. "As usual, you're right, Eleonore." He shifted in his saddle to turn towards her. "I want the chance to get to know you better and for you to know more about my life. From all that we've shared, I do believe that you've enjoyed our time together."

This slightly serious side of William intrigued her. She realized that when he was discussing a topic of great importance to him, he grew more quiet and reserved. There were so many facets to his personality and she longed to discover each one. As their horses moved in toward each other, she took the opportunity to take his hand.

"William, I don't think there are words to describe _how much_ I've enjoyed it."

The feel of her hand in his was exquisite. He wanted her all to himself and was tempted to break their horses into a gallop and get lost in the woods for a long time.

He smiled and gently squeezed her hand. "I'm glad to hear you say that."

"Miss Huntington!"

Eleonore turned in her saddle to see her attendant, James, waving and calling her name.

"Yes, James?"

"My lady, I see Lord Huntington's estate! Just up ahead!"

Eleonore and Methos looked through the trees and saw the massive estate. They were both disappointed that their trip was over so quickly and Eleonore quickly voiced her disappointment. "So soon…"

"Eleonore, you should know that I plan on visiting you as often as I can."

Inwardly, she thanked God that William was not the shy and retiring sort of man. "I would be most disappointed if you _didn't_ visit me, William. In fact, I believe new friends should visit as often as possible, don't you?"

"Oh, quite, Miss Huntington. I wouldn't want our friendship to fall victim to lack of contact."

They both smiled as their horses rounded the bend that turned toward the main gate of Lord Arthur Huntington's estate. Methos was used to seeing large "country houses" all throughout England. These houses – gaudy, massively impractical eyesores – were meant to display the landowners incredible wealth and stature. Lord Arthur Huntington seemed determined to follow that trend and show all his neighbors and rivals in London just how ostentatious he could be. The sad fact was that most of his "friends" were just as wasteful with their money as Lord Arthur.

As they approached the main entrance, Eleonore surveyed her uncle's home. Scanning the buildings, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of dread and fear. She reasoned with herself that she was simply nervous about seeing her Uncle. After all, he was a man with vast wealth and held a great deal of power in Parliament. Nervousness. That's all it was. Simple nervousness.

Methos and Eleonore stopped their horses in front of the main doors. Just as Methos was helping Eleonore off her horse, an older man and two young boys stepped out of the front door.

After a low bow, the older man approached Eleonore. "Miss Huntington, it is a pleasure to have you here. My name is Henry. I am Lord Huntington's steward and will make sure you have all you need during our stay with us."

"Thank you Henry. May I introduce Mr. William Christian. Mr. Christian assisted me when my coach wheel broke on my way here yesterday."

"How do you do Henry." Methos had a few servants of his own, but treated them like family. After all, a few of them had been with him since they were children and knew his secret of immortality. They were his trusted friends. He was always interested in the household servants of the aristocrats around him. They were usually treated as nothing more than manual labor, paid abominably and hated their "employers."

Henry turned to the two young boys behind him and gave instructions to help with the bags in the carriage. He then escorted Methos and Eleonore inside and into the ornately decorated parlor. "I will inform Lord Huntington of your arrival. The house mistress will bring you some refreshments."

Eleonore nodded. "Thank you, Henry." She turned to Methos and gave him a crooked smile. "I'm not used to this much formality at home, William. I have a bad feeling that a month here will seem much longer."

Methos smiled in return and stepped in front of Eleonore. He took her by the hand and looked into her eyes. "Eleonore, you know that I'm only a few hours away. I wasn't teasing you when I said that I would visit you often. You've become very special to me in the short time I've known you and I'm not going to wait an entire month to see you again. Besides, didn't I tell you last night that a rescuer must ensure that the person he's rescued _stays_ well?"

She knew that her heart was lost to this man who she'd met only the day before. It felt like some unreal fairy tale, but she knew that William Christian was going to be in her life for a long time to come. That thought comforted and calmed her.

A middle aged woman stepped into the room and placed a tray of tea, biscuits and cookies on the end table by the settee. Saying nothing, she began to arrange the cups, tea and plate on the table.

Eleonore was disturbed by the lack of camaraderie among the servants and wanted to reach out to them. "Thank you…" She stared at the woman hoping she would take the hint.

"My name is Mary, my lady." She was a handsome woman but retained a sense of sadness in her eyes. Although she spoke to Eleonore, she strained not to look at her. It was as if Mary was afraid that making any kind of eye contact with Eleonore would result in terrible consequences. "Miss, if there is anything you should require during your stay here, I am at your service."

"Quite rite, Mary. We will all see that my niece is well cared for."

The loud booming voice of Lord Arthur filled the room as he strode in the parlor. He embodied all that Methos loathed in the English aristocracy. Lord Arthur was a reasonably large man who carried himself like the King of England. His clothing was impeccably tailored and his wig of the finest construction. It was evident that Lord Arthur prided himself on looking the part of a wealthy Englishman.

As Mary retreated from the room as if fleeing from her master's presence, Lord Arthur walked straight toward Eleonore, took her hand and held it to his lips. Methos was taken aback at the look in his eyes as he quite obviously surveyed Eleonore from head to toe.

"My, my, Eleonore. You have grown into quite the lovely young woman. It's a pity your father couldn't visit me more often. I would have enjoyed getting to know my niece much better."

Eleonore shifted uncomfortably in her uncle's presence. She had prepared herself from all her father had said about Lord Arthur, but she was unprepared for the tangible fear that crept into her stomach at his touch. "You flatter me, uncle. It is a pleasure to see you again after all this time." In an effort to distance herself from her uncle, she introduced William. "Uncle Arthur, may I present Mr. William Christian. Mr. Christian was kind enough to offer me assistance when my coach was damaged yesterday."

Lord Arthur turned toward Methos and smiled a deliberate and menacing smile. "Mr. Christian, thank you for coming to my niece's aid. I hate to think of what might have happened to her being all alone on strange roads. I would like to compensate you for your time and the expense of repairing the coach."

"Oh, Lord Huntington, I wouldn't hear of such a thing. I like to think that any proper Englishman in my position would have done the same thing."

Lord Arthur laughed. "Quite right, sir! What would the world be if we didn't come to the aid of our women. All would be lost!"

Eleonore now knew that the month in her uncle's home would to seem much longer. The feelings of uneasiness continued and she silently thanked God that William stayed right by her side. She didn't want to think about his leaving her.

"Now, my weary travelers, it's time for some refreshments. I've had my staff prepare a quite sumptuous feast, and I'm sure there will be more than enough for you, Mr. Christian. I'll go and make sure everything is ready."

His leaving the room was like a weight lifted from Eleonore's chest. She was so deep in thought that William's hand on her arm made her jump. "Oh William! You startled me. I must have been day dreaming." She laughed and sat on the chair behind her. She desperately hoped that William would not notice her restlessness.

Methos sat on the loveseat next to Eleonore and took her hand. She was shaking and her hands felt clammy and cold. "Eleonore, tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing, William, really. My uncle is just such a powerful man and a little intimidating, don't you think? I'm simply overwhelmed with being here." She knew he didn't believe a word she said, but she couldn't voice her fears right now. She had promised to stay with her uncle for a month and she couldn't simply abandon her agreement. But, oh, how she wanted William to lead her by the hand and back outside to their horses. She would follow him anywhere. It was only a month. Just a month.

"Even though we met yesterday, that's long enough to know that you're not telling me the truth." He took his hand and stroked her face. "Eleonore, all you have to do is say the word, and we'll leave here right now. I don't want you to stay anywhere you feel uncomfortable." He wished she would come with him but he knew in his heart she would stay. She was a strong woman and wouldn't give in to her fears.

"Thank you, William. But you know I have to stay. Everything will be fine." She took his hand from her face and held it in hers. His strong but gentle hands. "I expect you to visit quite often, you know."

He smiled. "You'll have to post guards to keep me away."

A soft cough from the doorway alerted the couple to Henry. "Sir. Miss. Lord Arthur requests your presence in the main dining room."

Methos stood and offered Eleonore his arm. "Shall we?"

"We shall, William."

* * *

Neither Eleonore nor Methos wanted to say goodbye. Their time after dinner was spent walking the grounds while Lord Huntington attended to business matters. She hoped that his preoccupation with his various businesses – the details of which he had been more than happy to share ad nauseum during dinner – would mean that she wouldn't have to spend much time with him over the next several weeks.

As the sun set, Eleonore was keenly aware of her growing loneliness. She watched William as he spoke and felt the heaviness in her chest deepen with each passing minute. He would be leaving soon…to soon. She wanted to go inside, thank her uncle for dinner and run away with William back to his welcoming estate. But she knew that doing so would disgrace her father's name and humiliate a very powerful and wealthy man. No, she would stay and do her duty.

"Eleonore, I must be going." Methos took her hand and smiled. "You know…there's always room for you at my home. Just say the word and we'll have your things sent right away."

She knew he was serious and it gave her such an incredible feeling of relief that she embraced him. Throwing her arms around William's neck, she rested her head on his shoulder. Despite the voice in the back of her head that screamed 'improper!', it felt _right_. She had never conducted herself in such a way in the presence of a man she'd met the previous day, but in her heart and mind, she knew that William Christian wouldn't care in the least.

Methos held Eleonore tightly to him. He reveled in the feel of her delicate arms around his neck. The smell of her hair as he rested his cheek against the top of her head. It had been so long since he'd been this close to a woman – let alone a woman for whom he held such strong feelings. It was all he could do not to put her astride his horse and spirit her away from this place. He just wanted her to be with him.

Her soft voice broke the silence. "You know I can't William." She gently and reluctantly pulled herself away and looked up into his eyes. "I made a promise and I can't go back on my word. You of all people can understand that."

"Understand it yes…like it? No."

"Just promise me you'll come back to visit soon."

He put his hand to her cheek and stroked her soft skin. "I was being honest with you when I said you'd have to post guards to keep me away, Eleonore. I have a trip to make tomorrow, but that should only take me a few days. I'll come back here as soon as I'm finished."

Methos put his hands on either side of Eleonore's face and smiled. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me, Ms. Huntington. Whether you like it or not." Moving his face to hers, he closed his eyes brushed his lips against hers. He drank in the taste of her lips and the smell of her skin. It was all he could do not to lay her on the ground and show her how much he wanted to be with her.

Eleonore had been kissed before, but not like this. She felt like she was in a child's fairy tale story the way her stomach fluttered and a warm, calm sensation filled her body. William's lips were gentle, yet firm. He'd definitely had some practice at this fine art, that's for sure.

As Methos pulled away, he left his eyes closed and savored the moment. Opening them slowly, he spoke softly, "Eleonore, you may have thought I was persistent before. But after that kiss, you're going to have to use everything you have to keep me away from you."

She smiled knowing that she wouldn't put up any kind of a resistance to this man ever again. "Trust me, William, you don't have to be concerned that the next time you ask me to run away with you that I'll say no."

Eleonore stroked his face, wanting to memorize each detail of his strong and handsome features. "Now, you'd better go before I walk up the stairs and have my things packed." She put her hand in the crook of his arm and walked with him back to the main entrance of the house. As they walked, they didn't speak, but simply enjoyed being in each other's presence.

Henry stood out front with the young stable boy who held on to the reigns of Methos' magnificent stallion.

Methos took Eleonore's hands in his, kissed them and spoke in a low and guarded tone. "Eleonore, I want you to be careful while I'm gone. Please promise me you'll watch out for yourself."

She had planned on doing just that the moment she met her uncle. "I will, William."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

He backed away from her slowly and looked into her eyes. He smiled a reassuring smile and moved toward his horse. Eleonore marveled at how graceful he looked mounting his horse. How she wished she was going with him.

"I'll see you in a few days, Eleonore. Just a few days."

She smiled. "I'll be waiting, William."

Methos didn't want to ride off, but he forced himself to kick the horse's hindquarters and stir him into action. As the animal gained speed, he turned to look back at his Eleonore. Choking down the feeling of dread seeing her standing there in the shadow of that ominous house, he turned back forward and prayed silently that she would be alright. She had to be alright.

* * *

Lord Arthur watched the display between his niece and that impudent Christian boy from a window in the upstairs hallway. His anger rose as he watched her embrace him and allow him to be so close to her. He would teach her a lesson. She would understand the proper way to behave.


	4. Chapter Four

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_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda. _ This chapter alludes to rape.

* * *

It had been three days since William had left Eleonore to attend to his business. She didn't realize that just a few days could ever feel so long. She watched each afternoon, hoping and praying that William would ride up to the estate and she could feel joy again. But he hadn't and she was worried. She hoped that he'd been sincere about his feelings. As naïve as it may be for her to believe that she'd fallen in love with someone she'd only known less than a week, she knew she loved William Christian and being away from him was agony.

As she sat outside in the springtime afternoon, her pencil and drawing pad resting on her lap, Eleonore watched the trees move lazily in the soft breeze. She wished that she could feel so at ease. Despite being outside among the beauty of the day, Eleonore felt as if she were encased in cage.

She spent her time walking the estate, drawing, reading and riding. She wanted to help in the garden and the kitchen but the servants made it very clear that Lord Huntington would disapprove. He was busy throughout the day and much of the evening and she really only saw him while they dined. He made pleasant conversation, which consisted primarily of recounting his exploits in parliament and divulging secrets of King George II's court. She was appropriately awed during all the key points of his stories and feigned an interest in his business dealings, despite his arrogance and condescending tone. After dinner, her uncle would retire to his study and she to the reading room. The servants, primarily Henry and Mary, attended her well. She was able to draw Mary into a few short conversations and felt comfortable that the people in her uncle's employ were good, decent folk. All in all, the first days had been pleasant enough.

However, yesterday, Lord Arthur's behavior began to change. Wherever she went, he seemed to lurk there, watching her. During dinner, he drank more. His personality shifted from someone reveling in his own arrogance and importance to a man with something to hide. He became more withdrawn and sullen. She tried to initiate conversations, but would receive no response. She had wanted to believe that her initial anxieties about her uncle were just silly nerves. As a general rule, Eleonore wasn't intimidated by men, but this was different. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was afraid.

She was lost in though enough not to hear Mary walk up behind her. "Miss Eleonore?"

Eleonore jumped at the sound of the woman's voice. "Oh! Mary! You startled me!"

"My apologies, Miss." Mary curtsied and looked down at the ground. Almost as if she expected to be reprimanded for her interruption. "I just came to tell you that dinner will be a bit late this evening."

"That's fine, Mary. Thank you for coming to tell me." She smiled and realized that Mary still stood where she was. "Mary? Is there something else?"

Mary looked up and quickly looked about the area to see if anyone else was around. She stepped forward and crouched down, next to Eleonore's chair. Mary looked up and stared into Eleonore's eyes pleadingly. She whispered, "Miss Eleonore...you've got to get yourself away from here. The master's drinkin' again and all of us know what he's like when he gets that way. It's not good for you to stay."

"Mary, what are you saying..."

Before Eleonore could finish, the booming voice of Lord Arthur rose through the doors to the terrace. "Why, Mary, whatever are you doing bothering our Miss Eleonore? I'm sure she has other things to do than listen to you prattle on about the goings on of our household." He strode over to Mary who, as soon as she heard his voice, stood up and backed away from Eleonore.

"Yes, my lord." She took several steps away from where Eleonore sat and had just passed Lord Arthur when his large hand shot out and took her by the arm. He didn't attempt to lower his voice when he said, "And don't let me catch you fraternizing with my niece again, or you know what will happen." Roughly, he released her arm and Mary all but ran up the terrace steps back into the house.

Eleonore sat, not entirely sure how to react. She turned and picked up her drawing pad and pencil in an attempt to distance herself from her uncle.

"Mary can be such a nuisance sometimes. It's a wonder she gets any work done when she's constantly chatting about with someone." Lord Huntington moved closer and stood, looking over Eleonore's shoulder. "That's a very interesting sketch, my dear. Although with such a beautiful day, I wonder why you couldn't find something more attractive to draw than that dead tree in the garden. It's very depressing."

Eleonore shuddered as her uncle put his hand on her shoulder. "You shouldn't be so melancholy, Eleonore. Men like it when their women are pleasant."

She stood up and turned to face him. "Well, uncle, I'm not really concerned about what men think of me. I'll draw what I find interesting – not things to please others."

"Well, there's something to be said for pleasing others, don't you think?" The smile that crept into the corner of her uncle's mouth was akin to a hungry cat gazing upon a fat, little mouse. She moved past him and walked toward the steps to the house when she heard his voice behind her.

"I'll see you at dinner then, Eleonore. I'm sure we can finish our conversation then."

Eleonore's pace quickened as she made her way into the house.

Behind her, watching, Lord Arthur took in the site of her form moving away from him. The corner of his mouth rose again in a crooked smile. "Yes, Eleonore. We'll have so much to talk about."

That evening, as she prepared to go downstairs to face her uncle again, the feeling of dread moved through her spine and made her shudder. She cursed herself for not accepting William's offer to come with him. Why was she so damned stubborn? She shook her head and tried to clear her head and focus on getting through the next few hours. Eleonore was sure William would arrive in the next day or so and then she would leave this place behind. She so hoped that her feelings for William and his feelings for her weren't some childish fantasy.

But as she stood in front of the looking glass in her chamber, she knew they weren't just girlish dreams. He loved her and she loved him more than anyone she'd ever known despite the fact that they'd only met less than a week ago. He was special. Very, very special. This time, she wasn't going to let her pride, stubbornness and concern for propriety dampen her chance for happiness.

Steeling herself, she opened her bedroom door and started downstairs. She hadn't noticed it before, but the house felt still...silent. It was if the air had staled with the negative emotions flowing through the halls. Again, she forced herself to push down the feelings of unrest and crossed the main entryway to the dining room. Her uncle sat perched on his chair like a greedy king waiting for his evening's entertainment.

He held a glass of amber liquid in one hand and a piece of chicken in the other. She wondered if that was what Henry VIII looked like - all gluttony and arrogance rolled into one man.

"Eleonore, my dear, please come and sit. Dinner has arrived and I've taken the liberty of pouring you a glass of our finest wine this evening. I know how you love a nice red wine with your meal. Sit! Enjoy!"

Since her uncle sat at the head of the immense table, she took the seat to his right. As soon as she was in place, the staff prepared her plate and placed the sumptuous meal in front of her. "My, uncle, this looks absolutely wonderful. You have such a gifted cooking staff here." She lifted the fork to her mouth and enjoyed the delicate taste of the potatoes and chicken gravy.

"Yes, they are good. But lazy people in general. I have to do everything short of whipping them to get them to work!" He took another large gulp of his drink and refreshed his glass with the carafe sitting next to him.

Eleonore tried not to look at her uncle as the mere sight of him indulging caused her appetite to wane. She took a sip of the red wine and enjoyed the warm sensation down her throat.

"Good wine, isn't it, my dear. It takes a few sips to appreciate the complexities of the bouquet, I think."

"Yes, Uncle Arthur, it is very good. You have impeccable taste in wine."

His voice boomed, "That I do, girl! I bought it at a right bargain price as well! Nothing like finding aristocrats down on their luck to sell you valuable items far below their worth." He laughed and pounded his fist on the table to signal his approval at his own joke.

She tried to smile, but it was weak and feigned, at best. After a few more bites she took another sip of the wine. This time, she realized that the wine was more potent than usual. Her head began to spin and her face felt flushed. Strange, she never had this reaction to alcohol. She could always safely drink one glass of wine without any ill effects.

She looked up at the walls and tried to focus on the paintings across from her. Eleonore's mind swam and became more and more dizzy as she tried to force herself not to succumb to the waves of lightheadedness pouring over her. Standing up, she tried to steady herself on the back of her chair.

Eleonore hear her uncle's voice from off to her side and tried to understand what he was saying, but it was no use. Her head moved from side to side and her eyes closed as she felt herself moving deeper into darkness. 'Oh God, what's happening...William..Will...' Her thoughts muted as she slumped forward onto the floor.

Lord Arthur moved to Eleonore's side and felt her pulse. "Perfect.", he muttered in a soft voice. He picked her up and began carrying her out of the dining room. The servants were eating in their quarters so the hallways were empty. Not that he was concerned himself with being seen, but he wasn't in the mood to scold one of his servants tonight. He wanted to savor every minute of his time with Eleonore.

He was fortunate that Eleonore was a slight woman, as being out of shape, his breath became labored carrying her up the stairs to her chamber. He entered her room and deposited her on her bed. As she lay there, he took in her beauty. The curve of her dress, the hint of her cleavage at the top of her bodice. He would enjoy their time together. Time that young bastard William Christian wouldn't ever have with her. Eleonore was his now. All his.

Mary had watched as Lord Arthur had carried Eleonore upstairs. Her stomach clenched knowing what was in store for that poor girl. But she didn't know what to do. She couldn't help the others and she didn't know how to help Miss Eleonore either.

Mr. Christian. Mr. Christian could help. Mary ran to the servant's quarters to find the stable boy who could ride to Mr. Christian's estate and fetch him. It would take at least a day to get there and back, but she had to try something to help the poor girl.

Richard, the same stable boy who had held on to William's steed just a few days ago was saddled and on his way within a few minutes. Mary prayed that he would reach Mr. Christian soon. She knew what would happen to her if he didn't come for her within a few days and Mary didn't want that to happen to this girl.

"Hurry Richard, lad. Hurry.", Mary whispered.


	5. Chapter Five

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_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda. _ Once again, this chapter alludes to rape.

* * *

Methos cursed himself for taking so long with the local landowners. As he rode to his estate, thoughts of Eleonore consumed him. He had promised her he would only be gone a few days but he hadn't anticipated how difficult those blathering aristocrats would be to mediate. This land struggle had been an issue for years and the landowners had finally decided to meet and come to terms on defining their land rights. One would have thought they were negotiating to end a war with the seriousness with which they took discussing a parcel of land. And all that time spent listening to their selfishness and arrogance chipped away at his patience knowing they were delaying his return to Eleonore. In his heart, he knew Lord Arthur was not to be trusted and he had wanted to get back to her as soon as possible. His frustration with the landowners probably didn't win him any friends, but the matter had been resolved and he left immediately without so much as a friendly chat with any of them.

His tired horse trotted up to the entrance of his estate and he dismounted. Striding into the entrance, he was immediately set upon by Edward, his valet.

"Sir, you're needed in the kitchen." Not waiting for an answer, Edward turned sharply and walked swiftly toward his destination.

Methos knew that something was wrong and his arrival in the kitchen only confirmed that feeling. Sitting at a small table in the corner was a young man polishing silver. Methos recognized him, but couldn't quite place from where he'd seen the boy before.

Then he remembered. He was the stable boy who'd held his horse the other day when he'd left Huntington's estate. Methos pushed his way past the servants and stood in front of the young man.

"Boy, why are you here?"

Young Richard dropped the large serving spoon and stood up immediately. He bowed and looked up at the intimidating man. He knew from this man's visit at Lord Arthur's estate that Mr. Christian was a different kind of aristocrat, but he was still just a stable boy and terrified of speaking with someone of his stature.

"Sir, I was told nothing other than to come and fetch you straight away. Miss Mary said to tell you that Miss Huntington is in danger and needs you immediately."

Methos' stomach clenched as he realized that leaving Eleonore was the biggest mistake he could have made. He'd left her with that vile man and now she was in danger.

Methos' long time and dedicated servant, Miles, spoke up. "Sir, your horse is ready and I've already sent the carriage ahead. I instructed Phillip and Charles to wait outside Lord Huntington's estate for your arrival and instructions."

Miles was a virtual mind reader. He'd been in Methos' household since Miles was a boy and he – as well as the rest of his servants – knew Methos' secret. They were loyal, protective and, most of all, they understood what was important to him.

"You're a good man, Miles. I'm sure you already have chambers prepared for Miss Huntington. We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Very good, sir. Your horse is in the stable ready to leave." He paused and his face became solemn. "Be careful, sir."

"You know I will."

With that, Methos ran for the stables and his horse. He prayed that he wasn't too late.

* * *

Everything was a fog. Eleonore's eyes tried to make their way open, but it was if they were weighted down. Her body felt stiff and heavy. Moving wasn't really too much of an option, but she tried to turn her head with no success. She was cold and felt exposed.

What day was it? Where was she? Her mind swam as she tried to shake the cloud overtaking her mind. Her sight was fuzzy and the light in her room pained her eyes. They watered with the effort of trying to focus on her surroundings.

She heard a voice. Far away? No...it was close. A man.

"No, my dear. You shouldn't wake up now. We have too much yet to do."

She felt something touch her lips and realized that it was a cup. Cold liquid poured into her mouth and, at first she felt refreshed. But a few minutes was all it took to force the fog to roll back over her senses and push her back down into unconsciousness.

* * *

Lord Arthur smiled as he watched Eleonore slip back into a deep sleep. Eleonore was a prize. She was not only a strikingly beautiful woman, but intelligent as well. The other women he'd had before her were lowly and plain. They'd provided some entertainment, but hadn't stirred his soul the way Eleonore did.

He was glad that William Christian had abandoned her. Lord Arthur didn't want anything to take away from his time with Eleonore. He'd made sure that his servants didn't have a key to this room and they knew better than to interrupt him when he was entertaining a new woman. Besides, Eleonore was so very special. He hadn't realized just how special until she'd arrived at his estate and he had no intention of leaving this room for quite awhile.

He took a swig of the amber liquid that was so prevalent in his life. Alcohol soothed him. Gave him strength. Others felt it weakened them, but he knew that he was a man who could control himself. He felt the heat of the drink coat his throat and it gave him new life.

"Beautiful Eleonore. You'll be happy here. Once you've relaxed, you'll be happy. You'll understand that you belong here."

Lord Arthur Huntington moved back the thin sheet that covered Eleonore's naked body and stared.

"You'll never think of that Christian bastard again, Eleonore. That young pup has no idea how to take care of a woman like you. But I do."

* * *

Methos hadn't ridden this fast in centuries. All he could do was berate himself for leaving Eleonore. His instincts had never failed him before yet he let her stay there when he knew she should leave with him. He had trusted too much in her strength and that was a mistake that had cost too many of his wives and lovers their lives in the past. All his years living in the abandoned monastery had made him soft. Now Eleonore would pay for his stupid mistake. He only hoped that she wouldn't pay with her life.

He came upon the Huntington Estate and saw his carriage off to the side of the road. Phillip and Charles stood up from the grassy area in which they had waited.

"Sir, your instructions. We are prepared for whatever you may need.", Phillip stated with authority.

"I'm going in to the estate to find and retrieve Miss Huntington. When I bring her to the carriage, you will leave immediately and take her back to the estate. I hope to be in the carriage with her, but if I cannot, you will leave without me. Phillip, you will drive the carriage and Charles, you will ensure Miss Huntington's safety in the carriage. I will try to take a female servant from the house, but if not, propriety be damned. Just get her out of here."

Both of the men bowed. "Yes sir. Understood." They said virtually in unison.

Methos spurred his horse on and rounded the long road to the entrance of the estate. As he came upon the main door, he saw it open and Henry step outside. Methos leapt from his mount and ran toward the older man.

"Where is she?"

"My lord, she is in her chambers upstairs. I'm afraid that Lord Arthur has been in there with her for over a day."

Methos' stomach lurched at his knowledge of what was happening. "Why didn't anyone stop this?"

Henry's face fell. Methos wasn't quite sure if the old man would be able to remain composed.

"Sir, this isn't the first time Lord Arthur has taken a young woman. It's happened at least twice that the staff here knows of. But that was a long time ago...before he'd stopped drinking. We all thought he was past doing those horrible things, but Mary noticed that he'd started drinking again – after you'd already left. We kept an eye on Miss Eleonore to make sure she was alright, but the other night Lord Arthur took her up to her chambers without any warning. Mary saw him taking her there and that's when she sent Richard to retrieve you."

He shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry I couldn't have done more, my lord. Miss Huntington is a sweet and gentle young woman. We knew that you cared about her and could help her."

"Henry, you should have told me about this that first day. I could have protected her."

"I know, sir, and I will forever regret any pain Miss Huntington has suffered. I pray that you have arrived in time to help her."

"I do too, Henry. Now, the key to her chambers, where is it?"

"We don't have one, sir. Lord Arthur hasn't given any of the servants keys to several of the rooms in the estate."

"Damn. Then get me two hairpins. I'll pick the lock."

"Sir."

Henry bowed low and scurried on his way to the servants' quarters. Methos stood in the entry chamber and allowed himself to give in to his anger. Something he hadn't done in more years than he could remember. He'd left his immortal behavior and life behind to live simply and peacefully, but it somehow didn't surprise him at how quickly those feelings stirred once he prompted the thought.

All it took is for him to think of his beautiful Eleonore in pain at the hands of that contemptible man and he was ready to chop of his head with no regrets.

Just a few minutes later, Henry returned with several hairpins.

"I didn't know which ones you would need, sir, so I brought several."

"Good man, Henry." He inspected them all and pulled out two small, straight pins. "These will be perfect. Show me where they are."

Henry turned around and led Methos upstairs to Eleonore's chambers. Methos examined the lock and calculated the time it would take to finish what he needed to do.

"Henry, when I finish this lock, I will waste no time in going in that room and getting Eleonore out. If Lord Arthur gives me any trouble, I will kill him. What you choose to tell the authorities is up to you, but I ask that you protect Miss Huntington's reputation."

"My lord, you can rest assured that should anyone ask about what has happened here today, they will here a very sad story of Lord Arthur's untimely death minus any mention of Miss Huntington."

Methos put his hand on Henry's shoulder. "You're a good man, Henry."

With that, Methos went to work on the lock. Moving the hairpins slowly through the mechanisms, he felt the lock give way to his ministrations after only a few minutes of work. The process was quiet, but not quiet enough should Lord Arthur be listening.

Methos carefully turned the door lever and pushed the door open. He surveyed the room and saw in the far corner of the room a large canopy bed. At first he tried to discern what he was seeing. Then the realization hit him at full force.

In no more than a few seconds, Methos was across the room and kicking Lord Arthur in the side. With a large grunt and exhale of air, the large man rolled away from Eleonore and fell off the side of the bed.

Methos moved to the other side of the bed and put the tip of his sword under Lord Arthur's chin. He could smell the alcohol pouring off of Lord Arthur and it was all he could do to not ram the sword through his neck. Those feelings that had been long buried stirred in his chest. The adrenaline that coursed through his veins as he rode with the Four Horsemen became hot and fresh once again.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?!" Lord Arthur sputtered as he tried to get his bearings.

"No, you son of a bitch. That's my question for you."

It would be easy. One quick push on the sword would end Lord Arthur's miserable life. Methos felt his grip tighten on the hilt and he began to move it slowly forward. His jaw clenched and his breath came faster as he prepared to kill another man.

As he stared into the glossy, confused eyes of the man he so wanted to hurt, he realized that completing the act would only take him back to what he had once been. Someone who placed his judgment on others and took lives without remorse – a past he had struggled so hard to get away from.

He took one final inhale and moved the sword away from the large neck of Lord Arthur Huntington.

Methos crouched down next to the man and glared into his eyes.

"I'm allowing you to keep your pathetic life. Not for any other reason than to protect Eleonore. To kill you might cause her more pain and, despite my wish to do you great bodily harm, her well-being is my first priority now."

His voice grew deeper and his words were slow and determined.

"But let me assure you, Huntington. If you ever come near her again, I will not hesitate to put my sword squarely in your heart. But that will only be after I chop off various parts of your body as you watch. Do I make myself perfectly clear on this matter?"

Lord Arthur's head nodded slowly up and down. The sweat beaded off his head and rolled down his cheeks. Sobriety was quickly found when facing the very sharp end of a sword.

Methos stood up, resheathed his sword and moved to Eleonore. His stomach turned again as he saw her naked form unconscious on the bed. He quickly wrapped her in the sheets and comforter and gently picked her up.

He looked at her calm face. His head moved downward and his lips brushed lightly over her forehead.

"Let's go home, Eleonore. Let's go home."


	6. Chapter Six

__

_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda._

* * *

Methos continued to pace the hallway outside Eleonore's room as he'd been doing for the past hour. He was concerned not only for what he knew Lord Arthur had done to her, but for the fact that during the entire ride back to his estate, she'd only stirred a few times. He knew she'd been drugged and prayed that Huntington hadn't given her too much. Methos' fists clasped and unclasped as he waited for Luke to emerge and inform him of Eleonore's condition. Luke was a former monk who lived at the estate and served as the staffs' physician when he wasn't tending to the garden. The talents of his people never ceased to amaze Methos.

After several more minutes of waiting, one of his young female servants, Madeline, opened the door and motioned for him to come inside. As he entered, the young lady left quietly and closed the door, leaving Methos, Luke and a sleeping Eleonore alone in the room. Methos moved quietly to Eleonore's side and took her hand.

Luke didn't need for Methos to ask the inevitable question and so began his assessment. "Miss Eleonore will be fine. The drug that was used to put her to sleep is powerful, but should wear off by tomorrow. She may awaken a few times but will need to sleep off the remainder of the drug. Most people are not tolerant to such substances and some take longer than others to recover from their effects."

While he spoke, Luke began gathering his instruments and the other items he'd brought with him to examine the young lady. "I have confirmed that Lord Arthur has taken advantage of Miss Eleonore. While it does not appear that any damage has been done, based on the fact that she's been heavily drugged, I honestly cannot say if she'll remember any of what happened to her."

Methos' jaw clenched, he closed his eyes and let out a slow, deliberate breath in order to try and calm himself. He caressed Eleonore's hand gently.

"I assume you informed Madeline that she's not to report anything regarding Miss Eleonore's condition, correct?"

"Of course. Madeline is an excellent assistant and she's always been more than trustworthy."

Methos stood and turned to face his friend. He put a hand on Luke's shoulder. "I can't thank you enough for what you've done. For what you've always done for me…for all of us here."

Luke smiled. "Methos, you've never had to hide anything from me and you won't have to start any time soon. I'll be at your service until my last breath. Now…stay with Miss Eleonore and call me when she awakens. I've instructed Madeline to bring you some food. When our young lady is ready to eat, she'll be given only liquids until her system is rid of that damnable drug."

Luke carried his bag full of medical equipment as he moved toward the door. He stopped and turned. "And you need to get some rest. You may be immortal, but you still need to take care of yourself."

Methos' mouth rose up in a crooked smile. "You know I always listen to your advice."

"Which means you won't be sleeping anytime soon, I'm sure." Luke shook his head in mock annoyance and exited Eleonore's room.

Methos pulled over one of the sitting chairs and placed it next to Eleonore's bed. His mind raced with so many different thoughts, he had trouble focusing on just one. He loved a woman that now lay before him hurt and violated. Could he have stopped it? Why did he have this curse of outliving all of the people he loved? What would happen if Eleonore stayed with him? Would he tell her what he was?

He rubbed his forehead trying to make sense of all that had happened to his life in such a short time. For so long he'd wanted to live a solitary existence hoping that by doing so he would alleviate any pain for himself. But it didn't. Being alone just amplified the fact that he had no one with whom he could share his days. Eleonore's sudden arrival only cemented the fact that he'd been wasting time believing that sequestering himself away would heal old wounds and prevent new ones. It had been so long since he'd last felt love for anyone that he'd forgotten how wonderful wanting another person could be. The questions of how, why and what-if could be answered as they were asked. There was no reason to worry about the future. The future always took care of itself, it seemed.

He would concentrate on Eleonore for now. He would help her get well and ask her to stay with him. At least for another time in his excruciatingly long life he could be happy and content with Eleonore by his side.

Eleonore's eyes reacted poorly to the light that overwhelmed her vision. She blinked and squinted to try and alleviate some of the discomfort. Her sight blurry, Eleonore tried to focus on something in the room so that she could see more clearly. After a few minutes, she was able to determine that the room was not hers. Her heartbeat sped up as she began to panic at not knowing where she was. As she sat up, her head spun and her stomach rebelled against the sudden movement. Through her dizziness, she heard a voice.

"Eleonore."

She tried to focus on the source of the voice and realized that she knew all too well to whom the deep tone belonged. "William." She smiled weakly and reached out her hand. "William, it's you."

From the side of her bed, she saw William lean in toward her. If it was possible, he seemed even more handsome than he had the last time she'd seen him.

"Everything's alright, Eleonore. You're at my estate. You're safe now."

Methos sad on the side of the bed and took her outstretched hand. Despite everything that she'd been through, she was still the same strong and beautiful woman.

"Safe? Why?" She tried to think back to her time with her uncle but her memory was so clouded. She remembered feeling uneasy with him. Remembered having dinner and then…nothing.

"William, I don't remember….what happened?"

Methos wasn't quite prepared for answering these questions so quickly. He certainly didn't want to tell the woman he loved that she'd been drugged and raped. There would be time for complete honesty, but, right now, Eleonore needed rest.

"I had a feeling that something wasn't right. When my business concluded with the landowners, I went to Lord Arthur's estate to find you. Henry told me that you…you hadn't been well. When I went to your room, you were very ill. I decided to take you from that dreadful place and tend to you here."

"I don't even remember falling ill, William. What's wrong with me? Is it serious?"

Methos smiled and stroked her hair. "No, not at all. There's nothing to worry about. Luke, my physician here, says that it was just a very sudden illness but that you're just fine now. All you need is some rest and you'll be feeling like yourself in no time."

Eleonore wanted to remember what happened, but each time she tried, her efforts were met with blackness. Her head swam again and her stomach protested her attempts to remain awake and upright.

She looked at William and knew that despite the assertions that all was well, there was something amiss. Her body wouldn't allow her to remain sitting any longer and she lay back down on the bed.

"As much fun as it would be to try and get the truth out of you, I do need to rest." She squeezed his hand tightly, finding comfort in his strong grip. She smiled and looked into his eyes. "Whatever brought me back to you, I'm glad. I was miserable without you. And you don't know yet how irritable I am when I'm miserable."

Methos chuckled and smiled back at Eleonore. "If you're as irritable as you are stubborn and strong willed, I have my work cut out for me."

"If I wasn't so tired, I'm sure I'd come up with a very witty and scandalous reply." Eleonore closed her eyes. "Stay with me."

He caressed her face and basked in the softness of her touch. "Always."


	7. Chapter Seven

_Well, it's been seven years since I first started this story and it hasn't left me yet. It's been a busy time with two kids several moves and other life events that have left me little time to write. I decided that I had to finish this to bring closure to the Methos/Eleonore story and let me get the creative juices going again. Thanks to all of you who have read and enjoyed this piece. Despite it being shelved for all these years, it never left my mind and heart. If you've read this story before, please note that I have tweaked the first several chapters just to satisfy the things that didn't work for me the first time I published this story. _

___Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda._

* * *

Eleonore stood at the window of her relatively small but comfortable room and watched as the morning sun wove its way through the back gardens. She spent the most of the previous day in bed with only brief trips to this window to stretch her legs. She wanted to bask in the sunlight as if the warming rays would melt away the fog that still lingered in her head.

Rubbing her temples, Eleonore tried to pull the memories of the last few days back from the depths of her mind. She remembered small bits and pieces but only in quick flashes that didn't make any sense. She sighed softly as her head began to rebel against standing for so long. Walking slowly back to her bed, she heard a soft knocking at her door.

"Come in."

The door opened and Madeline, William's housemaid, came into the room. As Madeline observed Eleonore's slow progress to her bed, she said gently, "You're comin' along right well, miss." She crossed next to Eleonore's bed and placed a tray on the night table.

"You shouldn't try too hard to walk about, though, miss. Brother Luke said you needed your rest for a few days."

"Oh, Madeline, I can only lie here so long before I feel as if I'm as useless as a log." Eleonore arrived at the side of her bed and stopped as the fog crept back through her head as if trying to silence her altogether.

"Easy, now. Let's get you back in bed before Mister William returns and gives me a right scoldin' for even letting you walk about like this."

Madeline helped Eleonore into bed and secured the covers around her lower body. Eleonore vaguely remembered the sweet memory of her mother tucking the covers tightly around her small frame and kissing her forehead. "Thank you, Madeline. You've been a Godsend."

Madeline blushed slightly. "Well, miss, it's not often we get visitors here so it's right nice to be takin' care of someone for a change."

"Have you worked for Mr. Christian long?"

Madeline poured Eleonore's tea as she spoke. "Oh, I've been at this house since I was a wee little one. Me parents died when our cottage was lost to fire. Me brother and I were taken in by Mister William…I mean to say Mister William's family. It's been a wonderful place to live, I tell you."

"I'm sorry you lost your parents, Madeline. But to have your brother living here with you must be wonderful."

"Oh, me brother died awhile ago, miss. He was lost to a fever. Brother Luke did all he could, but the sickness was just too strong."

"I'm so sorry."

Shaking her head, Madeline said kindly, "You didn't know, miss, don't you worry."

Madeline ladled some broth into a bowl and placed a tray on Eleonore's lap. "Brother Luke takes good care of everyone here. He said that I was to make sure you got food into you. Have to get you well so you can take a walk in those gardens you keep admirin'!"

Eleonore smiled at how content Madeline seemed to be here at William's home. From what she observed the first night and now in the last few days, it seemed as if the servants weren't really here wages but because they felt a part of William's family. That was a comforting feeling.

"Well, how's our patient this morning?"

Luke's deep voice boomed through the small space. He was average height with a round face and sturdy frame. His eyes were kind and welcoming. Luke smiled warmly as he moved to the side of her bed.

"Madeline is taking quite good care of me, thank you. If I don't eat, she said she will lock me in my room and not let me out for the rest of the day."

Madeline turned quickly to face Eleonore. Just as Madeline was about to protest her statement, she saw Eleonore's mouth rise in a sly smile. Madeline laughed heartily. "Oh, miss, you're tryin' to bamboozle me!"

"Madeline, I doubt that I could ever trick you." Eleonore winked and turned her attention to Luke. "So, doctor, when will you give me permission to leave this room and cause trouble in the rest of the house?"

"My dear Miss Eleonore, I've already given the staff a warning that they need to be ready for you at any time." Luke stepped next to her and, taking her hand, felt for her pulse. "You seem to be on the mend quite nicely. How are you feeling?"

"Still a bit weak and foggy in my head, but otherwise I'm feeling well."

"That's good to hear. The broth, tea and toast should be a start to getting your strength back. I'd say as long as you feel up to it, you may walk about as you like. Preferably, with an escort, of course."

"I'm sure Mister William will make sure she doesn't go off by herself, Brother Luke." Madeline winked at Eleonore as she moved to arrange Eleonore's clothes on the settee in the corner of the room.

Eleonore liked Madeline. She was an independent and strong person, just like her and she respected that. Eleonore encouraged her own female staff to be professional but not shrinking violets afraid of their own shadow. Eleonore knew that Madeline and she were going to get along very well.

"Alright, then, I'll take my leave. If you need anything or you feel as if you're getting worse, make sure you have someone come and get me immediately." Luke smiled and patted Eleonore's hand before turning towards the door.

"Luke…thank you for all you've done."

He stopped and turned. "You've brought light back to this place Eleonore. Just by your being here, I can feel that things will be the way I've hoped they would for a long time."

With that, Luke exited the room and Eleonore felt that warm feeling consume her again. She'd been so alone since her father died. Her staff at the estate were wonderful people but they still kept their distance. As much as she tried to engage some of them, they still focused on their own lives and families. She couldn't fault them for that, of course, but it made her life alone in a large English country house less than idyllic.

"Miss, I'll leave this tray here for you and let you get some rest. I'll be back to check on you later and see if you'd like to go outside."

"Thank you, Madeline. I think I'll rest for awhile."

Madeline smiled and nodded. She closed the door quietly as she left and Eleonore closed her eyes. She let herself relax as she thought of walking in the gardens with William at her side.

* * *

Luke finished up his breakfast in the kitchen and headed to the door which would take him out to the stables. He had told Phillip that he would check in on one of the new foals. Just as Luke was about to grab the door handle, the door swung away from him and Methos virtually ran through the door crashing right into him.

"Luke, watch where you're going, man!"

Luke raised his right eyebrow. "Methos, first of all, it was _you _running through the door as if the hounds of hell were at your heels. Secondly, your Eleonore is resting."

Methos' face fell. He looked as if someone had thrown his favorite pastry in the mud. "Damn. I wanted to bring her these flowers from the garden." He held a bright bouquet of flowers in a small vase. "How is she this morning?"

"She seems better. Said her head still felt a little foggy but that was her main complaint, really. Her pulse felt strong and her color was back to normal. She's been taking in fluids and keeping them down so I think she's past the worst of it."

Putting his hand on Luke's shoulder, Methos said, "Luke, I may not say it often enough, but you are the best."

Luke shook his head. "Yes, you're lucky to have me. Remind me to speak to you about my raise."

The two men smiled at each other. Luke didn't stay with Methos because of money. Just like the rest of the people here, Luke stayed because he'd found his family. Methos took in those who didn't have anyone else. Those who were searching for a place to belong. Everyone in the house was given equal treatment and trust. In return, they gave their loyalty and hard work not only to Methos, but to everyone else in the home.

"It would never be enough, my friend." Methos patted Luke's shoulder and continued past him to the back stairway. He arrived at Eleonore's room and paused, taking a deep breath before going inside. A new chapter in his long life had opened and he wanted to savor every minute. He knew all too well that it wouldn't last and he hoped that this time, Eleonore's memory would stay with him throughout his long life.

Opening the door, Methos quietly stepped across the room to Eleonore's bedside. He picked up the tray that Madeline had brought in and replaced it with the vase of flowers. He set the tray next to the door and picked up the small chair against the wall. He set the chair next to Eleonore's bed and sat down. He didn't care that she was sleeping; he just wanted to be next to her.

As he looked at Eleonore's face, he felt the anger at what her uncle had done rise once again in his chest. He began having second thoughts about leaving him alive. His mind went back to the moment that he held the sword at Lord Arthur's throat. Methos could see himself thrusting the blade and putting an end to the man's miserable life.

But what then? What of Eleonore? What of the servants in Lord Arthur's house? Some were trustworthy, but others may have talked. He would have had to come up with some explanation or, more likely, leave his own home and take a new identity. Leave his family here. Leave Eleonore. It wouldn't have been worth it.

Just as he was ruminating about whether or not he'd seen the last of Lord Arthur Huntington, he heard Eleonore stir.

She opened her eyes slowly and, out of the corner of her eye, noticed him sitting next to her. She smiled softly and looked into his eyes.

"Well, this is a wonderful way to awaken. Will you be here every morning or is this a special occasion?"

Methos took her hand "Oh, if I have anything to say about it, I'll be here every morning…and every night."

"You don't mince words, do you Mr. Christian?"

"As far as I can tell, you don't seem to mind."

"To be honest, I prefer it that way."

Eleonore paused and began to sit up in her bed. Methos helped her put a pillow behind her back for support and sat back in his chair.

She spoke slowly and deliberately. "William, I've had a lot of time to think just lying here the past few days and I feel like we need to have some things out."

"You know you can tell me anything, Eleonore. Anything."

She looked at him again and smiled. "I know that. I think I've known that from the first moment I met you. I've never known anyone like you before. Many suitors have come to call on me and none of them have been worth my attention. I've never felt the kind of bond that I felt with you the first night we were together here. It's as if I fell into some fairy tale and found myself completely swept off my feet."

Methos began to speak, "Eleonore…"

She held up her hand. "No, please, let me finish. When you left me at my uncle's house there was something I wanted to say but I was too afraid. I knew on our way to the estate that I wanted to be with you. Since my father died, I've felt as if I was waiting for something and when I came here I realized that it was you. It sounds so foolish! We've only really known each other less than four days! But I love you, William. I want you to know that. If you don't feel the same, you must be honest with me. I can accept it and will leave here as soon as I'm well. What I want is for you to be with me because you want to, not because you feel obligated to me."

"Are you finished?"

Eleonore nodded and looked down at the blanket covering her lap.

"I know that we've only known each other a short time. But it's long enough to know that I want you to be with me for the rest of your life. There are a lot of things about me that you have yet to discover. When you do, you'll have to make a decision of your own, Eleonore. My past is not something I'm proud of, but it's the past. I want to make a future with you by my side. I love you. Is that honest enough for you?"

Eleonore reached out her hand to Methos' cheek and smiled through the tears streaming down her face. He reached up, took her hand in his and kissed it.

"I think it's a good start, my love."


	8. Chapter Eight

__

_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda._

* * *

The next few weeks went by quickly as Eleonore settled in to the day to day routines of the household. Her health returned fully within a few days at William's estate and she was soon doing all the things she used to do at her own home. William sent word to her home that she would be staying with him for the foreseeable future so most of her essential belongings had been delivered. He had assured her that, along with the money her father had left, he would ensure that her house would remain in running order and her staff would be paid. He promised her that they would visit as soon as she wished.

For now, all she wanted was to remain with William and continue her life with him. She never expected her life to take such a turn as this, but she was prepared for whatever might happen…as long as she was here with William. As she moved about the room, gathering her canvas and paints, she tried to subdue the feeling of anxiety fluttering in her chest.

She shook her head. "Stop it, Eleonore. You're acting like a silly little child."

Eleonore tied her hair back with a bow and with her canvas and paints, set off for the pond just outside the house. She loved to paint nature, particularly flowers, and the landscape around the estate had proven to be a never-ending source of inspiration. William often joined her to sit and read as she painted. His presence brought her so much peace. She laughed softly to herself when she realized that she probably would have had every flower on the property committed to canvas if she and William didn't find themselves so distracted with each other.

As she walked through the kitchen, she spotted the small picnic basket Ann had prepared for her. Each day the house cook took great care to provide Eleonore with a small but wonderful feast of food that she took with her for the afternoon. Of course, she always provided Eleonore with enough food for two, but Ann never mentioned that she knew William joined her on her outings.

Before she began her painting, Eleonore sat and did just what Madeline said she did on her outings here. She watched the family of ducks as they gracefully navigated the still waters of the pond. It was quiet save for the occasional chirping of a bird or rustling of the leaves above her head. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to bask in the crisp air. She hoped William would join her soon.

The surroundings calmed the lingering heaviness in her body. She couldn't quite understand why she felt such a strong sense of foreboding but it had been there for a few days now. She felt herself relax in this place, feeling at home and secure. But there was a persistent sense of dread that wouldn't leave no matter how much she tried to rid herself of the feeling. It was as if she knew that something frightful was going to happen and she was powerless to stop it.

* * *

Methos finished up his inspection of the new foals in the stables and made his way to find Eleonore. His stomach tightened as he thought about sitting next to her. He'd been in love with many women during his lifetime and he supposed he'd felt this way before. It had been a long time, though, and it was easy to forget the sensation of having someone in his life that felt so fulfilling and right. He wondered to himself why he thought that sequestering himself in this place was the answer to his problems. There would always be problems, but it was so much better to have someone to share them with than suffer alone.

As he walked over the small hill towards the pond, he saw Eleonore sitting alone. It would make a perfect portrait. The sun reflecting off the water gave an ethereal glow to her solitary form.

He approached quietly and as he came to a stop next to the bench, he noticed her eyes were closed. He smiled at how peaceful she looked.

"Did your mother raise you to be rude and stare?"

"Yes. She often told me that I should stare, chew with my mouth open and pull the hair of girls I thought were pretty."

Eleonore opened her eyes and smiled. "I'm not sure if I should be offended or grateful that you haven't yet pulled my hair."

Methos moved to sit next to Eleonore. "Oh, you needn't worry, I'll get around to that soon enough."

Her hearty laugh echoed through the trees and it made his chest feel heavy with love for her. So spirited and full of life. She was the one he'd been waiting for. Only Eleonore could pull him out of his solitude and back to the world.

"William, I should slap you across the face for such a comment!" She turned to him and put her hand on his cheek. "But I'd much rather do this with your face instead."

Her lips found his and softly but firmly she caressed Methos' mouth with her own. Eleonore didn't know how long they stayed this way, but the moment they parted, she felt it was over too soon.

Methos stared into her eyes and smiled tenderly. His hands cupped the sides of her face and he felt the warmth and softness of her skin beneath his touch. "You're my match, Eleonore. I hope you understand what that means to me."

"I've never felt I'd found my place until I met you. It's as if I've waited my whole life just to be here right now." She lowered her head to his chest and let herself relax, feeling safe in his arms. The nagging sense of trepidation began to melt as she listened to the beating of his heart.

"What's wrong, Eleonore?"

She sat back up and shook her head. "It's nothing, William. I'm being a bit skittish and I feel quite foolish."

Methos was worried that Eleonore had begun to remember what had happened to her. He realized that it was a possibility but he hoped that she would be spared the horrific memories.

"You know that you can tell me anything."

Eleonore looked into his eyes and smiled. "I've known that from the first night we met. Don't worry, it's nothing."

She moved away from him and picked up her paintbrush. "Now, are you going to allow me to paint or distract me with your flirtations?"

He smiled that lopsided grin that always brought a hitch in her chest. "Oh don't worry. I'm just going to sit here quietly and think up new ways to distract you, if you don't mind."

"I might think up a few myself."

His smile grew wider. "I think we could have an interesting evening comparing notes, then."

"Quite interesting, William. Quite."

* * *

Lord Arthur Huntington sat in the receiving room of his estate and inspected the visitor sitting across from him. The man was tall and had a sturdy build. His face resembled one of the statues he'd seen on his travels in Italy. For all Lord Arthur's power and money, the man who sat across from him now instilled a fear in his chest that he'd only felt when that bastard, Christian, had been standing over him with a sword.

Lord Arthur took a drink from the crystal tumbler in his hand. "You give me your guarantee that you'll take care of Christian and bring her back?"

The man sat forward in his chair and glowered at the fat aristocrat across from him. "I've never failed on a job before and I don't intend on doing so now."

"If she has so much as a scratch on her, I'll hold you personally responsible."

He winced as his guest stood up quickly and crossed over to the chair where he sat.

"Don't presume to try and threaten me, your grace. I don't plan on having any alone time with the little whore, if that's what you're worried about. Just have my money ready when I return so I don't have to take my fee from your home."

He turned and left the room as the echoes of his boots sounded through the hallway.

Lord Arthur poured the alcohol down his throat and wondered if he'd just made the worst mistake of his life.

* * *

After they finished dinner and spent some time in the library, reading together and talking about topics that ranged from history to the current political climate, Methos and Eleonore walked together to her room. He often escorted her to the door as if he was a suitor bidding his love goodnight.

As they reached her door, Methos put his arm around her waist as if he was a snake winding its way up a tree. He smiled at her sharp intake of breath.

"Goodnight, Eleonore."

Eleonore turned to face Methos. Her fingers found their way around his neck and into his hair while her mouth found his. Their first kiss was beautiful and electric but their embraces since then had taken on a passion and urgency that neither of them wanted to suppress.

It was all Methos could do to pull away. As much as he wanted Eleonore, he feared what had happened to her. He couldn't be someone to hurt her any more than her uncle had.

"Eleonore, you know I love you."

"Then why do you keep putting me at a distance? Why are you so afraid? You don't have to leave."

He touched his forehead to hers and his hand found her cheek. "Believe me, I want to be with you more than anything but…"

She put his hand over his mouth and shook her head. "No. I know what you're thinking. I'm not a delicate flower, you know." She held his hands and looked into his eyes. "I need you, William. Whether you're worried about marrying me or how I'll feel, please don't. I want you with me tonight. Please."

He stepped back from her and ran his hands through his hair. His head bowed, he leaned against the wall and sighed. "Eleonore, you don't know how much I want to walk into your room and make love to you. But I told you before that there are things in my past that I needed to tell you. You need to know about me before anything else. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I couldn't bear that."

She moved to him and her arms found their way around his chest. She wrapped them around his body as if to protect him from his pain. "I _will_ hear all about your past. In time. Nothing you could tell me would change the way I feel." Her head turned into his neck and she caressed his skin with her lips. "Please, William. I need you with me tonight."

It was useless. As much as his mind told him to walk away, his body protested. He gave in to her request and, as if in a dance, turned her to her door, opened it and guided them both to her bed.

He chuffed softly in her ear. "How is it that you can make me so completely defenseless?"

As she unbuttoned his shirt, Eleonore said, "I think you already know the answer to that question, love."

"I should put up more of a fight but, right now, I'm a bit distracted."

"William?"

"Yes?"

"Stop talking."

"Oh…right."


	9. Chapter Nine

_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda._

_

* * *

_

The sparks from the flames danced in the night air like fireflies. The glow of the burning village warmed his face even as his hands remained ice cold. He closed his eyes and fought the feeling of nausea that almost always overtook him after the Horsemen rode. He was Death yet even Death himself was growing weary of the smells and sounds he and his brothers created.

"_Brother!"_

_Kronos' voice boomed across the landscape and Methos opened his eyes to see the his compatriot walking toward him, dragging a young woman behind. She fought him but her kicks and screams drew no reaction from a man used to this behavior from those he conquered. As Kronos reached his brother, he stopped and pulled the woman to her feet._

_The man known as Pestilence bared his teeth in a perverse grin. "Look what I've brought for you!" He laughed while he fought against her flailing arms. "She's a fighter!"_

_Kronos grabbed the woman by the hair and lifted her face towards Methos. Her eyes weren't those of a fighter, they were of someone horrified at knowing what was to come. He'd seen that look many times before and he didn't think he could stomach one more 'victory'. Besides, she was so familiar. The hair…the lips…_

"_Eleonore…"_

He awoke covered in sweat, breathing as if he'd just run the entire length of his estate. The dreams varied but they were generally the same theme. His mind couldn't let him forget the monster he used to be. Every night, he was damned to relive moments of his past so that he would remember. Remember and not fall prey to the temptation of immortality. He'd already lived that life. Selfish and brutal, he did everything he could to control others. But not now. Not for a very long time. He almost dreaded going to sleep each evening but if those memories kept him from giving in to the seductress called power, then he welcomed the torture.

He turned to Eleonore and for a moment saw her as she'd appeared in his dream; wild eyed and terrified, looking at him with hatred and venom. He rubbed his eyes as if that simple act would erase the vision from his sight. When he removed his hand he saw her as she was now; sleeping peacefully, beautiful in the darkness with the soft light of the fading moon caressing her face.

Passing his fingers gently over her cheek, Methos prayed silently that he would never have to witness that kind of fear in her eyes again.

Methos stood up and crossed to the dressing table. He took the water jar and poured some of the cool water into the wash basin. He massaged his face and tried, as he did every morning, to cleanse the stain of his past out of his mind for another day. Hopefully, with Eleonore's help, he would be able to forget. For now.

As he dried his face, he felt the familiar tingle at the base of his skull. He hadn't met another immortal in decades and even then he didn't have to fight…just buy him ale. What brought one of them to his home now? Methos moved quickly but silently to put on his clothes. He crossed to the bed and leaned down to Eleonore's face. Kissing the top of her head, Methos whispered, "I love you" and quietly left the room.

As soon as he was in the hallway, Methos ran to Luke's room and swung open the door without bothering to knock.

In the corner of his room, Luke knelt facing a small shrine upon which stood small figures of Mary, Joseph and Jesus. He was just placing a lit candle on the corner of the wood altar when he spoke.

"It's my morning prayers, Methos, can we talk later?"

"Luke, there's another immortal on the grounds. You need to wake the staff and send Phillip up to Eleonore's room to stand guard."

The monk swung around and faced Methos with a look of dread in his eyes.

"Who? Why would another…"

Methos cut him off with a wave of his hand before he could finish the question. "I don't know, but I don't have time to come up with plausible theories right now. I'm going to get my sword and find out why he's here. I don't sense he's near the house yet but he's close. If he gets past me, you know what to do."

With that, Methos left in search of the sword he'd not used to fight another immortal in over one hundred years.

"I'm getting too old for this."

* * *

The tall figure moved behind the hedges in the garden when he felt the sensation of another immortal. It was something of a regular occurrence in the course of his profession that he came upon another one of his kind. Many immortals were far from upstanding citizens so he could count on a quickening from time to time.

He'd come in the early morning to observe the house and find the best time to take the woman. In the perfect circumstance, he would have spent a day or two just watching so that he could complete his assignment quickly and efficiently. Not that he was opposed to killing some worthless mortals in the process, but the less mess he created, the quicker it was to his payment.

But now, there was another immortal on the property. He would have to deal with this situation before he could find the little whore and take her back to Huntington. He'd told the fat imbecile that he wouldn't touch her, but if she proved to be his type, he might break that promise.

As he rounded the last hedge, he got a better look at the estate and realized that it wasn't just an old country house but a monastery.

"Damn it."

He smiled and muttered to himself. "That's one smart son of a bitch."

* * *

Methos could feel that he was getting closer to the other immortal. He stopped in the middle of Luke's herb garden as it was the last place that remained holy ground. He didn't want to leave the safety of his sanctuary until he had no other choice.

"Show yourself!"

His voice echoed through the pre-dawn morning and trailed through the trees. He stood with his legs apart and his sword at his side, hoping he looked much more confident than he felt. After so long without a fight, he prayed his instincts would return to save his head.

As he was about to shout again, a figure emerged from the trees only a short distance away. Methos tried to size up his opponent but the darkness was still too prominent.

"Who are you and what is your business here?"

The man took a few steps toward Methos and stopped. "My business? Well, that's a bit complicated, my friend. Let's just say that I'm in the _business_ of righting wrongs. In this case, I'm here to return the woman to her uncle."

Eleonore. That bastard, Huntington, couldn't leave it alone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Perhaps you weren't informed. Miss Huntington lives here now. I'll inform her that you brought regards from her uncle, but she must decline his invitation to return."

Laughter echoed through the air. "If you think I'm going to give up the money he's paying me just because you asked so nicely, you're not as smart as I thought."

The intruder stepped forward. "Now, get over here and give me my quickening."

Methos took a breath and closed his eyes. He focused on those memories that haunted his dreams. Rather than shrink from the images, he embraced them and allowed the visions to fuel his anger. If he was to face another immortal for the first time in over a century, he would need to tap into the darkest place he could for strength. He only hoped that when it was over, he could supress the evil once again.

With a voice he wouldn't recognize if he didn't know it was coming from his own body, Methos growled, "You have no idea who you're dealing with."

* * *

Eleonore awoke to the sound of bells. As she turned in the bed, she realized that she was alone. The light was only beginning to illuminate the room but she could see that William's clothes were gone. _'I couldn't have scared him off that easily…'_

As she mused to herself all the reasons William left, she heard the sound again. Not bells. Something clanging. She stood up, put on her nightdress and reached for her robe. The sound was coming from the window.

Eleonore put her arms into her robe as she crossed the room and strained to see outside her window. She was about to dismiss the noise as the early risings of the staff when out of the corner of her eye she saw two figures out on the lawn. They were circling each other slowly. She squinted and pressed her face closer to the glass. Each figure was holding something.

The sunlight began to deliver its early morning glow to the landscape. As the light grew brighter, Eleonore realized that William was one of the figures on the grass. He was carrying a sword and swinging at his opponent with intense fury.

At first she wanted to believe that it was one of the household staff, possibly having a practice session with William. But then, she realized that she had never seen William wield one of the swords kept in his library much less practice with anyone.

She looked down and noticed Luke, Miles and Edward standing at the edge of the gardens watching the display. Eleonore turned and ran to her door. She opened it to find Phillip standing just outside – himself armed with a sword.

"Miss…"

She didn't want to waste time asking about what was happening so she simply said, "Let's go."

* * *

The sword's weight made his arms ache. His enemy's attacks were unrelenting. It was obvious the man wasn't a stranger to combat. But there was something to be said for experience and Methos kept his opponent working hard.

His voice a grunt, the man said, "I thought this was going to be a simple job, Christian." He swung and Methos stepped backwards, turning away with the grace of a dancer. "At least you've made it interesting. Huntington has no idea what you are, does he?"

The two men continued their slow circle. Sizing each other up and resting at the same time.

"I'd venture to say that you didn't exactly volunteer that information, either."

"That halfwit couldn't even begin to understand what we are." He smiled. "But I'm sure little Eleonore was flushed with excitement knowing she was lying with someone so powerful. Her legs will open for my Claymore with moans of pleasure."

There it was. He'd ignited the one keg within Methos's chest that would make him furious and lose control. Methos's heart beat faster and his head clouded with anger.

"Meet Death, you bastard."

* * *

Eleonore and Phillip ran downstairs and exited the kitchen just behind Miles, Luke and Edward. The two men on the grass swung at each other continuously. She'd never seen William more than irritated much less this enraged. It turned her stomach to see him this way. Just as she was about to move closer to Luke, she heard a guttural howl. Her hands flew to her mouth as she saw William stumble backwards.

"Oh, God…no."

Just as William's opponent raised his weapon over his head, she saw the glint of William's sword rise up and enter the man's midsection. He fell to the ground. William stood for a moment and stared at him. Taking a step forward, he put his foot on the man's chest. William braced himself and pulled the sword from his opponent's body. Just when she thought that would be the end of it, William positioned his sword above his head and with a quick movement, brought the blade down, beheading the felled man.

She watched in shock as William stood over the dead man and dropped his sword to the ground. Luke took a few steps toward William but he stopped when he noticed the small flashes beginning to form around William's body. The lightning began to crackle and swirl about him in random flashes. It wound its way around his form in a whirlwind. His body began to rack with seizures. He cried out and fell to his knees. The lightning stopped.

They all stood for what seemed an eternity before Eleonore's voice broke the silence.

"William?"

Too shocked to run, the small group walked to where Methos lay on the dew covered grass. Eleonore knelt down and caressed his face with her hand. His eyes flew open and his hand clasped on to hers.

"William, are you alright?"

He braced himself against the people surrounding him as if they were an angry mob set on tearing him apart. Then, slowly, the look of panic and anger ebbed from his face. He let go of Eleonore's arm. Sitting up, he ran his hands through his hair and looked up at his beloved family. The lopsided smile returned.

"Well, then, that was quite a way to start our day, wasn't it?"

No one laughed.

"Sir…" Miles began to speak but Methos interrupted.

"Miles, there is much I have to say to all of you, but first, I think I need to have a few minutes alone with Eleonore."

Methos stood up, helping Eleonore to her feet as he did so. "Dispose of the body but preserve the head. I'll give you instructions later."

He led Eleonore into the house as the staff gathered to process what had happened. Luke surveyed his friends and understood that despite the knowledge that their employer was an immortal, seeing how that played out in front of them was more than disconcerting. If Methos had been any less of a swordsman, they all would be dead right now.

Patting Edward on the back, he said, "Well, my friends, I believe today we must earn the trust that he's placed in us. Let's clean this up and get ready for whatever comes next."


	10. Chapter Ten

_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda._

* * *

Methos handed Eleonore a drink before he sat down on the chair across from her. The room that was dark just an hour earlier was now lit with the warm radiance of the morning sun. He scanned Eleonore's face for any sign of how she was feeling. The combination of spending last night with him and then seeing him decapitate another man wasn't something any woman would deal with easily.

"Eleonore, I'm sure you have quite a few questions and I'll be happy to answer them. But first, let me tell you what I should have a long time ago."

Her head rose and their eyes met. Methos recognized the same confusion and sadness that had come over the faces of his previous loves when he told them who…what he was. He hoped that she would choose to stay rather than abandon him like many other women had.

She smiled wanly. "Tell me."

He started at the beginning. When he was born, his real name and how he became immortal. He told her of his many lives; as Death, a recluse, someone just wanting to find a normal life. How he'd loved many women before but despite the time, he remembered them all. Eventually he told her of finding this monastery and making it his home. He recounted how each member of the household came to find him and join his family. There were few times in his long life where he felt at peace. Living in this place with these people managed to calm his heart.

"Last night I wanted to tell you all this before…well, before you seduced me, quite honestly."

Another smile played across her lips.

Methos absentmindedly rubbed his chin. "Then, when I woke this morning, I felt the sensation of another immortal. The man who came here intended to take you back to your uncle and kill me in the process. So I took his head and when I did, his power and knowledge passed to me."

Her silence began to unnerve him. He moved from his chair to the floor in front of her. His hands cupped her face gently. "Whatever you decide, I'll understand. I don't expect you to love me after you've seen me behead another man and know that I might have to do it again."

She put her drink on the side table and took his hands into her own. "I'll admit that watching you this morning scared me. I don't think I ever want to see that look in your eyes again. I told you last night that no matter what you were going to tell me, I wouldn't stop loving you. If that means I have to watch myself get older as you stay the beautiful man you are now, then I'm willing to accept that. My heart just breaks for you that I'll be gone and you'll be alone…again."

Her face brightened. "But I can leave you with children. At least, then, when I'm gone, they'll be with you."

"Eleonore, I can't…"

She interrupted him before he could finish telling her that he would never give her children. He would love her but know that once she was gone, he would be alone again.

"I know…they'll leave you too. But at least you'll have a part of us with you for a little longer."

Methos didn't want to give her any more pain than he already had. He would tell her another time.

Taking his place next to her on the settee, he enveloped her into his arms. "As long as I can be with you now, I'll be happy."

* * *

Henry, Lord Arthur's steward, entered the aristocrat's office carrying a box. "My lord, this arrived for you just now."

The large man returned the papers he'd been reading into a satchel on his desk. He squinted and motioned for Henry to set the box down in front of him.

"Who is it from?"

"There was no note, sir."

"Probably some cheap gift from one of those fools in Parliament. Always trying to buy me with…." His voice trailed off as he saw what was in the open box.

Henry saw the man's face turn ashen grey. "My lord what is it?"

"Dispose of it."

Huntington left the office quickly. Henry moved slowly to the box and peered inside. A man's severed head looked up at him. He gasped. Noticing a note pinned to the inside, he took the liberty of reading it.

_Lord Arthur Huntington ~_

_This is what will happen to you if you make the mistake of interfering in Eleonore's life again. __I warned you once that should you ever come near her again, I would take great pleasure in torturing you before I kill you. Make no mistake that I will give you no other chances to make such an error again. _

_WC_

Henry put the note in his pocket and picked up the box. He smiled as he carried it out the door.

* * *

Methos' nightmares continued but at least having Eleonore with him helped take the edge off his anxiety. He was ready to have some more peace in his life at least for as long as she was with him.

It had been two weeks since he'd told her everything about his life. At first, she was withdrawn; overwhelmed with the knowledge of his life and his immortality. After many questions and conversations, she began to settle back in to her life with him, just as he'd hoped.

Methos put down the axe he was using to chop down a dead tree in the west garden. Wiping his brow, he saw Eleonore approaching and smiled.

"Are you finally coming to help me get rid of this bloody tree?"

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you? I do all the work and you lay about eating Anna's pastries!"

"Now, that is a brilliant idea, my lady."

Her arms wrapped around his neck and Methos kissed her deeply. "Any more of that and I don't think I'll be able to finish my job."

"Well, don't expect me to help you. A woman in my condition can't be expected to swing an axe, you know."

He stepped back, confused. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"You know I've been feeling tired and a bit sick."

He nodded.

"We're going to have a child, Methos."


	11. Chapter Eleven

_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda._

_**

* * *

**_

Present Day

Methos and Joe relocated back to Methos' Paris apartment during the course of their conversation. There, on Methos' leather couch, Joe sat, stunned. The realization of what Methos said dawned on him.

"Oh my god, Methos. Her uncle."

Methos took a large mouthful of his beer and swallowed slowly while he nodded. It was as if he was reliving that moment again. His stomach tightened and the alcohol threatened to find its way back from his gut.

"I never told her I wouldn't be able to give her children. I just assumed that when she didn't conceive, she wouldn't dwell on it."

"But she never remembered what happened?"

The immortal sat down on the edge of his favorite chair. "No. From the minute she realized she was pregnant, she assumed the baby was mine. I couldn't have told her the truth."

"The staff…they knew you couldn't have children."

"I told them she was never to know that. They understood...realized what this meant for me...and for Eleonore. Even though they knew the baby wasn't mine, they were ecstatic and embraced the news as if it were their own child."

Methos sighed. "Honestly, Joe, for as furious as I was at that son of a bitch for what he'd done to her, I relished the idea that the baby was _mine_. I would finally have a normal life. I can think of many children I cared for and loved but I'd never had a chance like this. A chance to be a man again. To raise a family and have what I wanted before I became this abomination. Eleonore believed I was the father. I loved her and I loved that child within her. Who its biological father was didn't matter to me."

Joe watched as Methos sat there, replaying his past in his mind. "That isn't the end of the story, though, is it, buddy?"

"I wish it could have been."

Methos put his empty beer bottle on the floor and found a more comfortable position in the chair. His eyes closed as the images of Eleonore flashed through his mind.

"She was beautiful, Joe. Being pregnant agreed with her. We would lie on the grass and talk about our life together. I think it was the last time in my life that I felt truly peaceful."

His head went back on the chair as if he intended to take a nap. The words dripped with emotion as he put voice to the memories that had stayed buried all these years. He smiled softly.

"Luke was such a mother hen. Always wanting to check her. Make sure she was eating and sleeping. Poor Eleonore, she told me that she planned on hiding in the greenhouse to avoid another exam. But bless her, she always met him with a smile and never turned him away. It was in her fifth month that Luke realized something wasn't quite right. He spent extra time listening to her stomach that afternoon. So much so that Eleonore and I both wanted to scream by the time he was done."

His eyes opened once again and he found Joe's gaze. "He finally told us that the baby was fine but we were going to be very busy. Twins. We were in awe and euphoric at the same time. It was something out of a dream. Thousands of years and I'd resigned myself to never having children. Yet Eleonore was giving me not one but two."

Methos absently traced the Watcher tattoo on the inside of his wrist as he spoke. The memories came in a flood now.

"She was a trooper, really. She never complained even though her poor stomach grew exponentially larger practically every day. I teased her mercilessly about her waddle and she, in turn, relished the fact that her snoring kept me up all night. The staff loved to give in to her cravings. They ran around making her the most bizarre concoctions. They loved her. We _all_ loved her."

His voice trailed off and he became lost in thought.

* * *

"Push, Eleonore! Wonderful! Keep going!"

Luke's voice echoed through the room. Methos stood next to Eleonore, holding her hand. It was a good thing he was immortal because he was pretty sure she was breaking some much needed bones in his fingers.

Madeline was standing next to Luke holding clean linens. She was both awestruck and terrified at what she saw.

"One more and we'll have our first baby, Eleonore!"

After pushing for two hours, Eleonore was exhausted. But having Methos next to her gave her renewed strength. She inhaled deeply, tucked her head to her chest and pushed.

Luke used his hands to inch the baby's head forward and managed to twist its small body to successfully pull the child out. He turned the baby upside down and, with a small suction ball, removed the mucus from its throat. They were rewarded with a healthy wail.

"It's a boy, you two."

Methos kissed Eleonore on her forehead and she burst into tears. Luke cut the child's cord and handed him to Madeline to clean and bundle.

"It's not over, Eleonore; you still have another little one waiting to meet you."

For the next ten minutes, Eleonore continued to push. Grunting and crying at the same time. Methos admired her courage. He would take a fight to the death any day over having to endure childbirth.

"Almost there!"

Once again, Luke pulled the child from Eleonore and rejoiced at the baby's strong cries.

"Another boy!"

Luke took charge of cleaning up the infant while Madeline brought the first baby to Methos.

"Your son, sir."

Methos took him into his arms and kissed his tiny forehead. "Adam." he breathed. An instant later he gasped.

"Oh my God."

* * *

"What?! What was wrong with him?"

"He was an immortal. As soon as I touched my lips to his head, the feeling rushed over me like cold water. I played it off as being overwhelmed. I was, really. I couldn't believe that this child was like me. It was as if he were truly my son."

"What about the other baby? Was he alright?"

"Oh, yes. He was perfectly healthy. They weren't identical twins. Adam was long and lean with dark brown hair. Richard wasn't that big but he was stocky. Like a tiny brick. I thought it was pretty evident that neither of them looked like me but Luke, bless him, insisted that Adam was my double. Clever bastard."

Methos stood up and stretched. He walked over to the window and leaned against the wall, watching the street below.

"I didn't tell Eleonore. That would have been too much for her. I didn't tell anyone except Luke years later when the boys were older. But that was when I was beginning to see that there was more to Adam than met the eye."

"Adam…that's where you got Adam Pierson."

"Bright boy, Joe."

He smiled but it was forced. These memories should have been happy ones but Methos was struggling to keep his pain below the surface.

"Adam was always more withdrawn than Richard. He preferred to be alone and do things on his own and we allowed it. He was a smart boy but he was just…different. I gave him the benefit of the doubt assuming that he would grow out of it in time."

Methos' hands ran through his hair in the absent minded gesture he often used. "I was a bloody fool, Joe. I should have been a better father. If I had…things might have been different."


	12. Chapter Twelve

_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda. _

_**1767**_

"Adam!" Richard's small voice echoed through the grove. He'd been looking for his brother forever, it seemed. They'd been called for supper and when father was hungry, you didn't keep him waiting. Richard was growing more frustrated by the minute.

"Adam, you answer me or I'm fetching father!"

Another voice rose from behind one of the apple trees. "Shut up, Richard. I'm coming."

Richard walked around the tree and saw Adam crouched over a small, brown bird. The animal was alive, but wounded. Adam used a stick to poke and prod the creature while it attempted to writhe away from him.

"Stop it!"

Richard attempted to take the stick from his brother's hand, but Adam had always been the stronger of the two boys. Adam wrenched his hand from his brother's grasp.

"You're hurting it!"

"Of _course_ I'm hurting it, you dolt." His eyes focused on the small bird once more. "I want to see what happens."

Richard turned on his heel and began to walk away. He couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm going to tell father."

Adam stood up and, like a shot, crossed to his brother and grabbed his arm. Adam brought his face so close, Richard could feel Adam's warm breath wash over his face.

"You tell father and you know what I'll do."

Richard's face fell. "No."

"I'll do it. Now go back and tell them I'll be along shortly. Or _else_."

Richard pulled his arm back from Adam's grip and took a few steps backward. He knew better than to challenge his sibling when he was in this state. Richard turned and walked back to the house.

Adam watched his brother for a moment before he turned his attention back to the bird. He surveyed the injured creature. Its movements. The way its small eyes darted back and forth, trying to determine a way to escape. It made Adam's chest swell with excitement. He picked up the stick and with one firm blow, drove it into the bird's breast. It let out a small cry, thrashed in pain and then became still.

Adam smiled.

* * *

Richard walked into the kitchen as Ann and his mother put the finishing touches on the evening's dessert. He was sullen and quiet as he passed by them towards the water basin.

Eleonore glanced at Ann who simply shrugged her shoulders. They both knew Richard as a gregarious, happy boy so to see him in such a state meant that something was surely wrong.

"Richard, what's the matter?"

Richard finished drying his hands and left the room without saying a word.

Eleonore stopped what she was doing. Her brow wrinkled with concern.

"Well, now, that's not right."

As Eleonore wiped her hands on her apron and started after Richard, Methos walked into the kitchen.

"Woman, where is my supper!" He boomed in mock annoyance, placing his hands on his hips. Neither Ann nor Eleonore laughed. Not even a smile played on their lips.

"What in the world has you two in such a foul mood?"

"Please talk to Richard, he just came through here and seemed very upset. I think he's on his way to the library."

"Consider it done."

"Oh, and try not to take too long, supper is ready."

"Have you ever known me to miss a meal, love?"

He winked and left the kitchen to seek out his son. Richard was outgoing and happy. He was the one that brought everyone together for games, made up dramas and was the family clown. He loved to be outside exploring and helped with chores around the estate whenever he was needed. He was smart, but he learned best when he was doing something rather than memorizing or stuck in a book. It was very rare to see him in any sort of cheerless frame of mind.

In the past few months, however, he began to have days where he sat alone in his room or in the garden; reading, writing or simply sitting. At first, Eleonore and Methos assumed that he was just in a different phase of life and left him alone. But as these episodes began to increase in frequency, they decided to confront what was going on and try to help him as best they could. As he usually did, Richard simply played off any concern with his standard good humor. Both Eleonore and Methos knew there was something wrong but they chose to wait until Richard felt he wanted to tell them what was wrong.

Richard sat in the library, his small frame dwarfed by the massive fireplace. His head rested on his hand as he stared intently into the fire. Methos felt his chest hitch and he smiled thinking about how much he loved the little boy in front of him.

"Are you contemplating throwing yourself in, my boy?"

Silence. Methos walked over and sat next to his son on the brick hearth. He was quiet for a moment, hoping Richard would speak first. When that time didn't come, he continued.

"Richard, what's upsetting you?"

"It's nothing."

Methos patted his knee. "You're a very bad liar, you know."

Richard didn't move. He spoke softly and determinedly. "Father, it's just something I can't talk to you about. You needn't worry, everything will be fine."

This response made Methos more concerned than he was before. The seriousness in Richard's voice was disturbing. A twelve year old shouldn't have such troubles.

"We've always been able to talk freely, Richard. Why is it you won't confide in me now?"

His small face turned toward Methos and his green eyes met his father's. Richard studied his face and he struggled to carefully choose his words.

"There are things in your life that you don't wish to share with me, right father?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"This is something I just can't tell you right now. You just have to trust me."

"It's not a matter of trust, Richard. I've _always_ trusted you. But this sounds like something you can't take care of by yourself. I want to help."

"It's time for supper!"

Adam's voice cut through the calm atmosphere just the same as if he'd entered the room banging on a drum. Richard and Methos jumped at the sound.

"Yes, Adam, thank you. Your brother and I will be there directly."

"Mother wants you to come now. The chicken is getting cold."

"I said we were on our way, Adam. _Thank you_."

Richard stood up; knowing his time with his father was over. His small hand found its way to Methos' shoulder. "Everything will be fine, father."

As he exited the room, Methos watched as Adam's eyes focused on his brother like an eagle surveying its prey. Richard either didn't notice his brother's gaze or he chose to ignore him altogether. At that moment, Adam reminded him of his own "brother", Kronos, and the way he used to inspect his victims before an attack. It caused Methos to shudder.

After Richard left the room, Adam turned back to his father. The charming smile of his firstborn returned. "Come to dinner, father. Mother's made my favorite dessert." He turned on his heel and made his way to the dining room.

Suddenly, Methos wasn't hungry at all.

* * *

As Richard washed up and got ready for bed, his mind kept flashing back to the look on his brother's face as the small bird writhed under his hand. Adam's enjoyment of the creature's suffering was terrifying to him. When his father looked into his eyes, Richard almost blurted out all of his fears. He trusted his father and had never hesitated to be honest or share his feelings in the past. But he feared his brother and what he might do if Richard told anyone the things he'd seen Adam do over the last year.

Richard was so lost in thought he didn't hear his door open and Adam come in the room.

"That was close, wasn't it brother?"

The sound of Adam's voice made Richard spin around where he stood.

"You know I didn't tell him anything."

Adam moved closer to his brother and smiled. "Oh, I know. But I wanted to remind you of what would happen if you decided to grow a spine."

"Don't you dare."

"You're threatening _me_?! You know what I did to Madeline, Richard. If you tell anyone, it will be someone you love even more. Maybe even mother…or father."

There was nothing he could say. If he challenged his brother, it would only make him angrier. He did know what he'd done to Madeline. When she'd fallen ill six months ago, everyone was perplexed by her sickness. Not even Luke could determine how to treat her. She recovered in time, albeit slowly, but she still felt the effects to this day.

One morning, three months ago, Adam gave Richard his first warning. After breakfast, Adam and Richard were clearing the dishes when he whispered in Richard's ear. "I poisoned her."

Richard had stood, frozen with the realization that his brother had not been lying. Now, he reacted the same way he had that morning. He was terrified that the next time his brother chose to vent his frustrations on someone else, that person may not come out of it alive. He would find a way to stop him…but now wasn't the time.

Adam stared down his brother. When they were little, Adam realized that he wasn't like his twin; they were as opposite as two brothers could be. Where Richard was outgoing and funny, Adam was serious and solitary. Adam was intelligent, but he hated to read and study. Adam had an ability to read people and situations then react accordingly. He'd begun to lie to the staff and to his parents slowly over the last few years. He had a natural charm that made people want to trust him. Gradually, he'd begun to give in to the darker urges of his personality. He realized he enjoyed seeing what happened when people suffered. Their reactions fueled him. Gave him purpose.

He knew his brother would never understand and he wanted to ensure his silence. He began to show Richard small glimpses of what he'd done to animals, how he would lie to mother and father and the things he stole from around the house. At first, Richard wanted to tell their parents. But Adam began to blackmail Richard by threatening to hurt the animals, then later, the people, he loved. Richard tried to stand up to him for the longest time, but Adam both physically and mentally wore him down. After the incident with Madeline, Richard finally surrendered to keeping his silence. Adam was disappointed by his brother's submission. It was more fun to see him fidget and struggle with his conscience.

A smirk played across Adam's lips and he took one more step toward his twin brother.

"I'm glad we understand each other."

Adam turned and walked to the door. He stopped just as he reached for the door latch. Without turning to face Richard, he said, "Pleasant dreams, Richard."

* * *

Lying in bed that night, Methos could not get the image of Adam out of his head. He'd been dwelling on it all evening. The look on Adam's face was the same one he saw on Lord Arthur when he first laid eyes on Eleonore. It was someone hiding their true nature behind a façade of charm and ease. He'd seen that look on Kronos' face countless times.

Worst of all, he recognized it because it was something Methos himself had perfected thousands of years ago. Adam had always been the more introspective and quiet of the two boys. His strong charisma and quick wit offset the harsh and broody portions of his personality. Methos thought he was a great deal like him, despite the fact that they shared no blood tie. Now, he feared that the traits he saw in Adam were more indicative his real father, Lord Arthur Huntington. He'd raised Adam as his own but it was beginning to seem that his true parentage might play a role in what his son…his _pre-immortal_ son…may become.

Another shudder passed its way up Methos' spine.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda. _

* * *

_Methos watched as the radiance of the fire attempted to pierce the veil of the night sky. The drums grew louder as the Horsemen and their entourage celebrated another victory. A celebration to include the torture and rape of an entire village. His eyes closed against the thought of another innocent slaughtered and defiled at his hand. _

_He heard footsteps behind him but didn't bother to turn. "Kronos, I'm not in the mood for revelry tonight. Leave me alone."_

"_But I've found a prize and I want you to watch."_

_That voice. It didn't belong to Kronos. He spun around to see Adam holding a struggling woman to his side. With his knife, he raised her head and ran the blade down her check. _

"_She's perfect, isn't she….father."_

_Eleonore. No. No…_

"NO!"

He reached wildly in front of him, gasping for air as if he'd been drowning. He twisted fluidly to his side and saw Eleonore move in her sleep. Shaking, he sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his dark hair. He tried to close his eyes and calm himself, but the image of Adam's bloodthirsty grin wouldn't allow for peace.

"Don't get up yet."

Eleonore's quiet voice rose to his ears and broke him from the waking nightmare. He turned to see her face in the early morning light. It had been eighteen years since they'd met in the woods and, to him, she looked every bit as youthful and beautiful as the day they'd met. The small lines evident in her face added a maturity and grace to her features that he found endearing.

The memory of his nightmare made his chest tighten. If anything ever happened to her, he wasn't sure how he would continue. Pushing aside the thought, he allowed a crooked grin to cross his face.

"Did you have something in mind, Mrs. Christian?"

She smiled at her husband. As he'd told her so many years ago, he wouldn't ever age. His handsome face never grew older or suffered the lines and creases as hers did. It almost made her feel as if she too were trapped in time. She wished she could spend eternity with him but the reality of her growing older became more and more evident each year.

Eleonore's hand reached up to his face. She pulled him closer and kissed him lightly, taking time to inhale the scent of him.

"I think that we should take advantage of a sleepy household and the boys away in London."

"And I think you are a very smart woman."

They made love slowly, illuminated by the glow of the rising sun.

* * *

Richard woke suddenly. He'd been having a nightmare, but when he searched his memory, the only remnants of the dream that surfaced were flashes of death. A sword. Screaming. A woman? Yes, but a man's voice as well.

He turned back the covers, stood and crossed to the washbasin. Pouring clear water into the bowl, he let out a long sigh, hoping it would calm him.

The nightmares were all too common now. As was the ever present feeling that something was to happen that would change his life forever. It wasn't a sense of excitement or anticipation but dread. Dread that he was powerless to stop what was to happen.

And he knew who would be the cause of that event. Adam. Over the last five years his brother had grown into something resembling a monster. When they were children, he'd satisfied himself with small shows of what he was capable. But as he grew, Richard saw his brother's desire for blood grow exponentially. The sword fight training their father provided only served to fuel his rage. There were far too many times where Adam's blade came all too close to Richards neck.

Richard had begun to fight back against his brother. It helped greatly that, over the years, Richard had grown into his manly build. Still only seventeen, he was physically strong and agile. His father liked to joke that Richard was their family's 'mighty oak.' But he was still sensitive and calm. He knew he could best Adam physically but he wouldn't take the chance of his brother unleashing his wrath on someone he loved.

Because Adam's yearning for danger couldn't be sated at his father's estate, in the last few years, Adam began to take trips under the guise of educating himself in the world.

Although Richard never outwardly spoke to his father about his fears, Richard was sure he knew. William allowed Adam to go on trips as long as he was accompanied by Richard and Phillip. Whenever they came to a new place, the routine became the same. Richard and Phillip would explore the area; find places of learning, religious and government establishments to delve into learning more about their world. Adam would focus on the local taverns and places of ill repute. Richard didn't want to know exactly what his brother was doing. It churned his stomach to think of the possibilities.

From time to time, Phillip was able to chide Adam into accompanying them but, for the most part, Adam kept to himself.

Richard finished dressing and set out to find breakfast. They were due to return to their estate today and Richard was anxious to get started. Maybe when they were home, his nightmares would end.

* * *

Adam's long form crept through the alleyway in silence. He was adept at finding the most efficient way out of any situation and this one had been a wonderful challenge. He solicited a young woman in the back alleys and took her to a room he'd frequented before. It was out of the way from prying eyes and ears. He hadn't planned on taking her life until she became obstinate. They'd had an enjoyable night until then. She'd surrendered to his various sexual demands, and he'd started cutting on her back when the protests began. He moved swiftly to punch her in the face. Not only did that stop her cries, but, Adam was fairly sure, it had broken her jaw. After that, he bound her and decided to use this opportunity for something special. He'd wanted to perform an evisceration for so long now. He'd only seen the insides of animals before so he took his time and enjoyed every moment.

Her death had been exquisitely painful and he'd relished every cry. Every whimper.

He took her body to a small building that he'd found on the last trip to London. He knew it was abandoned. He buried her in the farthermost corner of the room. Along with his two other treasures.

"Now, for a wash and breakfast." Adam said with anticipation.

* * *

Richard entered the dining hall of the establishment in which they'd stayed for the last week. His friend and servant, Phillip, occupied a table in the middle of the room.

"Phillip, how did you sleep?" Richard slapped the man on his back and received a warm smile in return.

"Not too poorly, lad. You?"

Richard allowed himself a smile, knowing he wasn't as adept at lying as his brother. "Oh, I would have slept better had I not been so anxious to leave for home."

"Agreed. I want to eat and get on our way. Have you seen your brother yet?"

Richard began to sit down and the smile quickly disappeared from his broad face. "No. He's probably gotten himself into some mischief, I would assume. I'll try and find him after we eat…"

"Brother! Phillip! Good morning!"

Adam's voice boomed through the large hall, catching the attention of the few other patrons. Richard shook his head. His brother always had to be the center of everything.

"Just coming in or just going out, Adam?"

Adam noisily pulled out his chair and sat down at the table. "Richard, stop acting like you're my father. I have one already, you know."

"We're going to get on our way home as soon as we're done eating."

Adam rolled his eyes. "I don't know why you can't stand London. It's the place to be, Richard! Everything important happens in the city."

Richard glared at his brother. They were flesh and blood but it constantly amazed him how different two brothers…twins…could be. His appetite soured as he watched Adam greedily filling his plate.

Richard pushed his chair back. "I'm going to settle our bill and get ready to go. I'll see you both outside when you're finished."

Phillip nodded. "Very good. We'll be along shortly."

Phillip shuddered as he watched Adam's eyes follow his brother out of the hall. Adam had always been a solitary, broody child but it was only in the last few years that Phillip began to realize that the young man was dangerous. The small lies of Adam's youth had blossomed into a deviancy that Phillip had only heard about in stories of tyrants and the insane. It was the reason he didn't mind accompanying the two of them during their travels. It allowed him to be close to Richard. To protect him from his brother, if needed. And he had a feeling that would be sooner rather than later.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda. _

The three men barely spoke a word to each other during their journey save for a few comments about London or the weather. Adam was consumed with the memories of the previous evening. Every detail played over and over in his mind. It was difficult for him not to laugh at the pleasure of it all. He hated the idea of leaving London but swore to himself he would return soon.

Richard dwelt on his dreams and the feelings of impending devastation he knew was to come at the hands of his brother. The voices from his nightmare played over and over in his head. His muscles resisted any attempt at relaxation. He hadn't even remembered riding the last several miles.

Phillip was the only one alert and scanning the woods for possible danger. Even though the three of them were simply dressed, any travelers along England's roads were almost certain to invite trouble. They were nearly to the Christian estate, but he didn't want to let his guard down.

Phillip heard the loud snap of branches and undergrowth before the loud boom of a flintlock rifle echoed throughout the forest. Both Richard and Adam were snapped from their respective reveries in an instant. Before they could spur their horses to move faster, another gunshot sounded and an agonized cry emanated from Richard's throat.

Adam spun around in his saddle to watch as his brother clutched his left shoulder.

"Richard, I'm coming!"

Two men ran from the cover of the trees while two others came up on horseback from behind.

Their attackers seemed only to have the two guns in their possession and with each weapon having already discharged, they weren't prepared to reload. Not being very organized worked in the trio's favor as all three men had readied their guns prior to their journey. Phillip pulled his horse to a stop and aimed squarely at one of the shorter men on foot. The smell of gunpowder raced up his nose as he watched his intended target fall to the ground.

Adam's shot found it's mark in one of the men on horseback. Blood raced to his face as he saw the man catapult off his horse and strike the ground hard. The adrenaline pumped through his body as he focused his attention on the other horse rider. Taking his sword from the sheath at his side, he turned galloped directly toward the burly man.

Richard was wounded but not helpless. His gun fell to the ground after he was shot but he managed to unsheathe his sword with his right hand. He drove his horse toward the second man on foot and managed to strike him in the midsection.

His blade ready, Adam charged toward the man on horseback, realizing too late that his opponent held a throwing dagger in his hand. Adam could only watch as the gleaming piece of steel connected with his chest.

"ADAM!"

His brother's scream seemed distant as he fell forward over his saddle. The sounds of fighting stopped immediately as Phillip ran Adam's attacker through with his sword. Adam's horse slowed and then stopped as its rider slumped against the animal's neck.

Both men leapt from their horses and raced to remove Adam from his mount. Adam's blood flowed steadily down the front of his coat. He lay with his back resting on Richard's lap.

"Adam…Adam it will be alright. We'll get you home. We're nearly there. Hang on."

Richard pulled the dagger from Adam's chest. He took his coat off and pressed it to his brother's torso. Phillip caught Richard's eyes and nodded slowly. Richard's heart sank. Despite the years of fear and hatred towards the man lying in his arms, Adam was still his brother. His parents would be devastated. Adam's raspy voice broke the silence.

"Richard…tell father I'm sorry. He's always been right about me. You've always been right….."

His eyes closed and both Phillip and Richard sat quietly for a long while. Phillip was the first to stir, getting up to gather their weapons and round up the horses. He put his hand on Richard's shoulder and squeezed lightly.

"We need to tend to your wound."

"It's not that bad. I'll be fine until we get home. Help me get him on the horse."

Phillip's head rose and fell in agreement. As Richard stood, he paused and looked Phillip in the eye.

"I'm not sad, Phillip."

"What?"

"I'm not sad about him dying. I'm sad that father and mother will be hurt, but I'm not going to miss him. For that, I feel guilty. But….I just feel…relief…that he's gone."

"Richard, you're in shock..."

The young man's deep voice cut him off. "No, no, it's alright. I shouldn't have said anything. Let's get him back home."

Phillip watched as Richard climbed up on his horse, his brother's body lying across the front of the saddle. He wanted to say some words of comfort. Something that would help Richard deal with the loss of his brother. But deep in his heart, he felt the same way. He would not miss Adam Christian.

* * *

As he was pruning the roses in the front garden, Miles saw the horses approaching far down on the main road. He ran back to the house and bounded through the front entrance. His voice echoed through the large house.

"They're back! They're back!"

The sound of footsteps carried it's way through the house. Eleonore came running from the kitchen as Methos flew down the main staircase.

"It's about time!" Methos said in mock annoyance.

"Well, they certainly have good timing, they made it just before supper. Typical men!" Eleonore's laugh rang through the entry hall. Methos chuckled with her.

"With those three at the table, that means the rest of us won't even get to chew the marrow off one of the bones!"

Their exit from the house coincided with Madeline and Charles walking from the side garden, waving their arms in greeting.

As Methos looked from them to the approaching riders, the realization of what he was seeing hit him like a fist in the chest. Richard rode atop his stallion, his head lowered. A bloodstain spread across the fabric of his shoulder. The body of a man draped across the front of his horse. He looked quickly to the second rider. Phillip. The empty horse was Adam's.

"Oh. God."

His legs propelled him forward, running faster than he had in years. The repetition of the word 'no' spilled from his mouth. He reached Richard's horse just as he heard Eleonore's cries rise behind him.

"No! No! No!"

As Methos dragged Adam's limp form down from the horse, his body made an offensive thud on the dirt. He turned him over and saw the blood on the front of his coat. He looked from Phillip to Richard.

"What happened?"

Phillip spoke softly. "We were set upon by bandits on our way here. Richard was shot but Adam was run through with a dagger trying to defend his brother."

The thoughts began coming in a flood. A violent death. He would come back. And soon. Eleonore. Richard. They didn't know.

Methos scanned the faces of his loved ones. Eleonore was bent over her son's body, stroking his hair and calling his name quietly. Richard stood next to his horse, his shoulders hunched and his face pale.

He saw Luke coming out the front door, hastily scanning the group of people gathered around for any sign of what was happening. Once the man's eyes rested upon Adam's still and bloodied form, the realization hit him as well.

"William…" The physician's tone was urgent…almost pleading.

Methos shook his head and stood up. "We need to bring him to his room."

Eleonore wasn't listening. Her grief consumed her. He allowed Phillip, Luke and the other men to carry Adam inside while he supported Eleonore. Richard followed slowly.

* * *

As they lay Adam on his bed, Methos looked around the room at the people he loved. Only one of them knew Adam's secret. They knew Methos was an immortal so the experience of Adam's revival shouldn't be a terrible surprise. But for Eleonore and Richard, this would most likely be the most shocking experience of their lives.

He'd always hoped that Adam would live a normal life. When he was a boy, Methos simply wanted him spared the pain of living alone. But as Adam grew older and Methos began to see the quiet and sullen boy become more devious and frightening, there emerged a recognition that Adam's destiny was driven as much by his biological father than his status as an immortal. When Adam was born, Methos felt that the child being an immortal would be a special bond. But as the boys became men, it was apparent that Richard's gentleness and strong character was more like his own than Adam's immortality would ever be.

Methos sighed deeply. It was time that everyone knew the full truth. He prayed that Eleonore would understand why he'd kept this secret. Now Methos would have to admit who, and what, he was to his sons. He simply prayed that Adam's new found power wouldn't destroy them all.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

_We're in the home stretch now, gang! The story has evolved pretty much like I wanted after getting the idea all those years ago. Sorry it's taken me this long to finally get to the conclusion. I hope you've enjoyed taking this journey with me. Any comments are appreciated. Thanks!_

_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda. _

_

* * *

_

Eleonore continued to caress Adam's face as Luke tended to Richard's wound. Although the entire staff was present in the room, the air was heavy with silence. Richard's normally impressive voice came out as nary a whisper when he spoke.

"He said to say he was sorry." His brown eyes caught the gaze of his father. "He said you had always been right about him and that he was sorry."

Methos looked to Luke. The physician began to finish up the bandages on Richard's shoulder. "Luke, I need to speak to Richard and Eleonore alone. Would you please take everyone and…tell them."

Luke shook his head and smiled wanly. "Yes, of course." He wiped his hands on a small piece of cloth. "Let's leave them alone, everyone. Please, come to the kitchen."

Their extended family slowly moved out of Adam's room. Luke was the last to leave and turned to whisper quietly in Methos' ear before departing. "They're strong, Methos. Tell them. _Everything._"

"I know they're strong enough, old friend." His hand patted Luke's shoulder. "I'm just not sure I am."

The door closed with a soft click and Methos turned his attention to his wife and sons. He crossed to Adam's bedside and took Eleonore by the hand. "Eleonore, I need to talk to both you and Richard."

Her brow furrowed and her words came out in a choked sob. "William, I just want to be with my son…"

"Eleonore, please. It's important."

She reluctantly gave in to his request and crossed to the sitting area. She sat in the large armchair in the corner while he motioned for Richard to occupy the small settee.

"Eleonore, eighteen years ago, I told you about my past. Who and what I was. You remember?"

Once again, the look of puzzlement overtook her features. "Yes, of course. How could I forget?"

"Well, it's imperative Richard know what I am." He took a deep breath and let the words spill from his mouth. "Because Adam takes after his father."

The lines in her brow vanished with the shock of his words. She looked to Adam's still form on the bed, then to Richard and back to Methos. "No. No, William."

"I knew when the boys were born that Adam was like me. But I didn't want you to concern yourself with it because it was entirely possible he would live a normal life. We don't become…what we are…unless we die violently. I wanted him to be spared my fate, Eleonore."

"What are you two going on about? Adam is dead and you're speaking in riddles." Richard rarely showed any glimmer of annoyance but this afternoon's events weren't allowing him much patience.

"Richard, what I'm about to tell you is going to seem…well…unbelievable."

He took a step closer to his wife and son.

"My name is Methos and I'm nearly five thousand years old."

* * *

Methos recounted much of what he'd told Eleonore that morning almost twenty years prior. As he did then, he left out the one important detail that would reveal that he was not the boys' true father. There was enough to deal with now, he thought. He could broach that subject when the time was right; even though Luke would surely want to wring his neck.

Eleonore sat silently while Richard sat and mulled over the fantastical information he'd just been given. Neither she nor Methos were sure he would believe such an incredible tale.

Richard looked up. He found the eyes of his father and then his mother. He nodded.

"Normally, I'd laugh at the both of you, knowing you were having a bit of fun with me." He wrung his hands together as he so often did when in deep thought. "But my brother is lying dead in a bed next to me. Either that's a very disturbed sense of what's amusing or you're telling me the truth. I'm choosing to believe that you're telling me the truth."

He looked to his brother on the bed.

"So both you and Adam are going to…live _forever_?"

"Well, unless someone takes our heads first…yes."

"But I'm not."

"No, Richard, I'm sorry. I can sense another immortal. Even one that hasn't had their first death yet. You'll be spared this life of loneliness."

Richard stood up, anger slowly filling his face. "I don't give a damn about being immortal, father. I care about the fact that my brother is a dangerous, evil bastard and he's about to live forever. I should take his head right now."

Eleonore's head snapped up at Richard's words. "Richard!"

"No, Eleonore, it's alright. Richard's been through quite a shock today…"

"Don't patronize me, father. You know I'm right. We've both known what Adam is capable of. The darkness is in his heart. Now, instead of feeling relieved that he wouldn't hurt any one of you anymore, he's going to sit up in that bed at any moment and make our lives hell."

As if on cue, the gasp of air echoed throughout the room. Adam struck wildly at the bed, as if trying to break a fall. His hand flew to his chest, searching for the dagger that was there only a few hours ago.

Methos and Eleonore moved to Adam's bedside. Methos' voice was low and soothing. "Adam. Adam, my boy, you're alright. You're at home."

"But the robbers…the knife. Richard held me…"

"Yes, I know, I know. I'll explain everything, Adam. Just calm yourself and listen to me. I know what you're feeling because it happened to me…thousands of years ago. You're an immortal, Adam."

* * *

Luke and the rest of the staff resumed their work quietly as they mentally processed the knowledge that Adam was another immortal. It seemed that most of them thought the same thing. If it had to be one of the brothers, why couldn't it have been Richard?

He heard the footsteps behind him and recognized Richard's heavy gait. He turned to be greeted by the young man in a state of sadness and anger the likes of which Luke had never before seen.

"Richard." He began to speak, attempting to give out some of his infamous words of wisdom. But his words caught in his throat as Richard's heated words spilled from his mouth.

"I knew something was going to happen, Luke. I'd dreamt about it for years. My brother is going to harm this family. I was actually thankful for his death. I thought the nightmares would be over and we could live in peace. But it's not. It's just beginning."

"Don't you think that's a bit dramatic, Richard? He's your brother."

"Yes, and he's a monster, Luke! I've kept silent about it for years because I didn't want him taking his anger out on anyone in this family. But, now….now he's able to live forever. And get stronger when he kills other people like him."

Richard began pacing the floor, his hands clenching open and shut.

"And he will, Luke. That will be the first thing he does. He wants power. He wants death. He enjoys it. I don't know why or how, but he always has. Maybe he inherited that from our father."

Luke flinched at the words. "Your father?"

"Yes. Father told us how he'd led a past life of killing and death. That he'd been a horrible person but in the last several centuries, he'd tried to atone for what he'd done. Maybe that's something Adam got from him."

Methos hadn't told them everything. They boys still thought he was their father. Damn you, Methos.

"I don't know, Richard. Some children grow up completely different from their parents. I can only hope that your father can help Adam to understand this gift and use it wisely."

Richard laughed. "I know you to be a forgiving man, Brother Luke, but even for you, that's a bit naïve. My father gave us the training to defend ourselves and to fight. What he doesn't realize is that he's given Adam complete confidence to go out into the world and annihilate anyone who gets in his way. And, believe me, he'll do it."

Eleonore came through the doorway slowly. Richard turned around when he saw Luke's gaze look past him.

"Mother…I…"

"Richard, it's alright. I'm not a simple woman, you know. A mother knows her children." She stood in front of her imposing son and put her small hand on his face. "You are my light and the joy of my life. You're a strong man, Richard, and I know you have a wonderful heart."

She took her hand away and moved to sit at the table with Luke. "I also know Adam has darkness in his being. It's always been there but I never knew quite how much until recently. I never thought a woman could be afraid of her own child yet…I am. Now, I fear that my son will be lost forever."

"Father will never let anything happen to this family, mother." He moved to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Neither will I."

She felt the tear roll down her cheek. "I know you both will do everything you can to protect everyone we love. I just don't know if that will be enough."

Eleonore closed her eyes and put her hand over her son's. How she loved him. How she feared for him. For them all.

* * *

She hadn't bothered to bring a lantern with her to the garden. It didn't really cross her mind. It was as if her body just took her to this place without even thinking about it. Eleonore came to this bench when she wanted to be alone and, tonight, she couldn't imagine being anywhere else. She sat in the dark, listening to the sounds of the night. Feeling the cool breeze on her face. Her husband's footsteps didn't disturb her in the least.

Methos knew he would find her here. She loved to read, embroider or just sit by herself in this place. He knew when she was gone, he would never be able to come to this place and not think of her. It would become a shrine to Eleonore. He stopped next to the bench and looked down at his wife. After Adam awoke, she allowed herself to stay and help calm her son. But when Methos started to explain to him what he was, she took her leave in order to give them privacy. He only hoped she would understand why he chose not to tell her Adam was an immortal.

"I'm sorry."

Eleonore sighed. "I know."

"How angry are you? I'm wondering if Madeline needs to make up one of the spare rooms for me."

"If I didn't love you so bloody much, you'd be taking up a permanent residence in the shed, my dear."

Methos smiled and sat next to her. He took her hand in his. "I _am _sorry, Eleonore. I never wanted to keep a secret from you." He inwardly cringed knowing he'd kept the worst secret of all. "I just wanted Adam to have a normal life. I hoped he would escape becoming an immortal at all."

"I know, Willi…_Methos_. I suppose I can call you by your real name now that the boys know who you are." She took his hand. "I just wish I'd known earlier. I'm frightened for him. How is he?"

Adam's reaction to the news of his immortality was disturbing. He'd sat silent during Methos' explanation; his promise to help Adam understand his power and responsibility. The boy never once asked questions or showed any emotion in regards to this life changing information. When Methos was finished, Adam simply said he wanted to be alone.

"He said he wanted to be alone."

"Well, I can't imagine receiving this kind of news. I'm sure it's natural that he wants to be by himself."

"I've never seen a reaction quite like it, Eleonore. I've seen my fair share of first deaths and in most cases, the new immortal is terrified, angry and then saddened after hearing of what sort of life lay ahead of them. I've seen a very few who reconcile themselves so quickly to being an immortal and those people are…."

At the pause in his speech, she turned her body to face her husband. He looked her in the eyes.

"They're dangerous."

* * *

The next morning, Methos awoke abruptly. There hadn't been a nightmare the previous night, but he still woke covered in sweat. He sat a moment before he realized that there was no familiar buzz of another immortal at the base of his neck. Adam.

Methos threw back the bed covers and flung open his door. He ran down the hallway and bounded up the staircase two at a time. When he came to Adam's door, he didn't bother to knock. He knew in his stomach that he wouldn't find his son there. Looking around the room, he saw what he feared most.

The drawers to Adam's clothing chests were ajar, the bedclothes in disarray. His armoire stood open and empty. Methos' heart raced in his chest.

"No, Adam. No."

* * *

Adam Christian had never felt so free. As his horse galloped down the road, he felt the wind in his face for what seemed like the first time. He'd left his family behind, knowing that there would be no room in his new life for them. It was as if he'd broken through the restraining chains of being human and evolved into a new person. No more accountability. No more hiding. He was free to explore the world and not concern himself with the consequences.

He was now a living god.

His laughter echoed through the forest.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda. _

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Adam Christian sat in the tavern's corner table, his chair resting against the wall. Over the last five years he'd learned to keep himself on guard at all times. He never positioned himself in a room where his back might be exposed. Plus, it afforded him the luxury of observing the occupants in the establishment. It was one of the more fashionable taverns in London, frequented by the young rich nobles and individuals with popular reputations. Since Adam had money, albeit stolen money, he afforded himself the luxury of traveling in subdued style. He'd become very practiced at mingling without soliciting unwanted attention.

The last time he'd visited this city, he killed a young woman only hours before his own death. He remembered lying on the road, his life ebbing away. He'd been so terrified. Although he loved to witness the suffering of others, he'd never come to terms with the fact that he feared death. He craved seeing others meet their end, but was not willing to go there himself. That all changed when he'd awoken to find out he'd beaten the Grim Reaper. Since then, he welcomed opportunities that brought him closer to death. Provided, of course, that the situation didn't involve him losing his head.

He smiled to himself how much things could change in such a short time. He'd learned more in the last five years than he ever had in his 'mortal life'. Now he was ready to go home and face his father. He stopped the glass just prior to it touching his lips. His _father_. The irony wasn't lost on Adam. One of the oldest immortals was pretending to be the man who gave him life.

"You're a clever bastard, Methos." He whispered to himself.

The idea that his own father was so powerful had given Adam inspiration and purpose. The night Methos told him of his past, that William Christian was, in fact, one of the most bloodthirsty killers ever to walk the Earth, it was as if Adam's life came into complete focus. Knowing he came from a man who'd performed so many atrocities made him understand his own feelings of lust and rage. Adam wasn't insane. He didn't need to be helped. He'd been given a gift. He'd fueled that gift over the last several years by taking the heads from any immortal he could.

When he'd found out it would be impossible for an immortal to sire or bear children, he was justifiably shocked. He felt betrayed by the man he thought to be the giver of this gift. Adam knew he must return and face the man he'd known as his father. Not for understanding. Not even to find out about his real father. He wanted Methos' power.

With it, Death would conquer the world again.

* * *

Eleonore wiped her brow and sat on the ground. She loved spending time in the garden. She closed her eyes and felt the sun on her face. The cool breeze kissed the sweat on the back of her neck and made her shiver. The smells of dirt and flowers mingled in her nose. If she hadn't been born to privilege, she was sure to be right at home in a family of farmers.

But she was happy her home was here with Methos. She never thought she would find the contentedness afforded her with him. Eleonore only wished it could be complete with both her sons. After Adam's resurrection, as much as it was, both Richard and Methos become more withdrawn. Her husband and Richard had gone out time and again in an attempt to find Adam but to no avail. He'd just disappeared.

She'd known in her heart that Adam was different but she'd wanted to believe the best in her son. Richard was such a kind and caring person, she couldn't imagine that her firstborn child could be that divergent from his brother. But she knew she'd been very wrong. Now the worries of her husband and son that Adam would harm the family continued to seep into thoughts. When she truly understood the power he could achieve by killing others like him, she began to be more and more afraid. She knew Richard and Methos would protect them as best they could. Eleonore just hoped that would be enough.

* * *

Methos finished filling the last horse stall with hay. He leaned against the sturdy wood of the barn wall and inhaled slowly. He'd been pushing himself hard lately. Both he and Richard found things to fix, move and change all over the estate just to keep themselves busy. He wished Richard spent his time meeting people his own age rather than keeping to the house. He never wanted this life for either of the boys. A life where you had to watch your back against enemies. Being in fear for your loved ones. It wasn't an existence that he wished on anyone.

He always hoped that both of them would have wives and children. It was probably more for selfish reasons that Methos wanted a more simple life for Richard and Adam. After all, the kind of peace and happiness he'd found with Eleonore only entered his life maybe every several hundred years. He wanted to be with Eleonore until she was gone and watch his grandchildren come into the world. His naïve dream once again vanished into thin air. The reality of his life always pushed itself to the forefront. His only hope now was that Adam would leave them in peace.

But the gnawing in his stomach told him that peace was not to be found any time soon.

* * *

Adam made his way to the bar and motioned for the bartender. As he did, he collided with an obviously drunk man who staggered backward at the impact. The man turned around. His too loud voice boomed in Adam's face.

"Oh! I'm sorry, my boy! I didn't see you there!"

"It's quite alright, sir. No harm done." Except there would be harm done if the blathering idiot didn't leave him alone. He began to pull out money to give to the now present barkeeper.

"Yes, yes, quite so. I haven't seen you in this establishment before, young man. It's a pleasure to meet new people in the city. Are you staying or just traveling through?"

He took a breath to calm himself. He was just an old drunk, he told himself. Now was not the time to do anything stupid.

"Just traveling through on my way back home. Good day…"

The man clapped Adam on the back. "Well, lad, if you're ever back in London I'm sure I'll see you again. If you need anything, just ask for Lord Arthur Huntington. Most people know me…" He drew close to Adam. "And know that I can help them enjoy the real pleasures of this city." He laughed at his own good humor.

Adam stopped in his tracks. That name. It was his mother's. But they'd never mentioned any relatives. Her parents were dead and she was an only child. He grabbed Lord Arthur by the collar.

"Huntington? Are you a relative of Eleonore Huntington?"

He, too, stopped suddenly. His eyes found Adam's. They were pleading while at the same time hungry and dark. "Eleonore? You know Eleonore?"

"Yes. She's my mother. My name is Adam Christian. My mother is Eleonore Huntington and my father is William Christian."

Lord Arthur stepped back and regarded the young man standing in front of him. His handsome features resembled those of his mother.

"Your mother. She's my niece."

Adam's head nodded slightly as he surveyed the large man. He was physically big but also retained a significant amount of girth. He obviously partook in good food when he wasn't drinking. He studied his face closely. The eyes and nose were so familiar.

They were Richard's.

He didn't want to be having this conversation in the middle of a crowded tavern.

"Let's step outside, Lord Huntington. I think we have much to talk about."

Adam took the man by the elbow and guided him outside, around the back of the tavern. He let go of Lord Arthur and stood a moment, choosing his words carefully. He lifted his head and looked his uncle in the eye.

"My parents never told me about any relatives. Why is that?"

Lord Arthur was still feeling the effects of the alcohol. His face flushed and he could feel his anger rising in his stomach. The memories of the bastard, William Christian, taking Eleonore from him were fresh in his mind. He'd stayed away out of fear but he'd never forgotten her. Never stopped wanting her.

His response came out in a growl. "Let us say that your father and I had a disagreement. He asked that I not involve myself in Eleonore's life. So, I have not."

Adam had many talents. Talents that had grown over the last several years. Being able to know when people were lying or withholding information was one of them. He knew Huntington wasn't telling him everything. His hand rested on the sword at his side.

"Now, now…uncle…we're family. Why don't you tell me why my father forbade you from seeing my mother."

Lord Arthur's anger began to change to fear. He didn't know exactly why. The young man standing before him had to be in his early twenties. Yet there was a darkness and maturity about him that he recognized in himself.

"I don't think it would appropriate to divulge family grievances, Adam. Your father would not look kindly upon my discussing such matters." Lord Arthur began to move forward in order to distance himself from the young man.

The image of the severed head sitting in a box flashed in his mind. He wiped his brow, grown damp with sweat from both fear and drink.

Adam saw the dread in the man's face and knew he would be able to find out all he wanted to know, either with or without his cooperation. He moved his body to block his uncle's attempt at escape. He may have weighed less than the bigger man, but his height and demeanor were as intimidating as muscle.

"Let me make it clear to you then. I don't care if we're family or not. I want information and I'll do whatever is necessary to get it. Why have I spent my entire life not knowing you even existed. Especially when you apparently don't live that far away."

"Boy, what you think you can do to me is nothing compared to what your father will do if I betray Eleonore's confidence."

"Oh, I don't think you have any idea of what I'm capable, _uncle_."

If he had drunk any less, Lord Arthur would have been able to make a stand against Adam Christian. At least, he thought he would. But there was a flash in the young man's eyes that he'd only seen when William Christian stood over him with a sword and threatened his life. He knew that if he didn't tell him what he wanted to know, that his body would be found dead in this alleyway.

He paused as he recalled seeing Eleonore for the first time as a grown woman. His eyes filled with longing. He was talking not only to Adam, but to himself.

"Your mother was beautiful. I'm sure she still is. When she came to my house after her father died…it was twenty….three years ago now, I had never been more taken with a woman than I was her."

A heaviness began to creep into Adam's chest. "She was your _niece_."

"A niece I hadn't seen in years. She was a woman when I saw her again." The memories flooded back. "I wanted her like I'd never wanted a woman before. She didn't, wouldn't, of course, reciprocate my feelings for her. So I took matters into my own hands."

"You didn't."

The glare in Huntington's eyes made his answer evident. He became more angry as the recollection of losing Eleonore to another flooded his mind. His voice was low but laced with fury. A fury Adam recognized all too well.

"She was mine. That bastard, Christian, should never have interfered. He just wanted her for himself. But he was too late. I was her first and I know she'll always remember that." His mouth turned up in a wicked smile. "I know I will."

Adam's dagger was at Arthur's throat in the blink of an eye. His body seethed with the desire to take the blade and slowly insert it into his throat. But he stopped and thought about everything his uncle had said. Twenty three years ago. His mother and Methos never speaking of this man. Richard looking so much like him.

The grin spread across his face slowly. Adam's eyes pierced through the haze still evident in Lord Arthur's eyes.

"I hope you enjoy the memories. They'll be your last. _Father_."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

_**Well, this is it. The last chapter of a story I began almost ten years ago. The very angsty end to a very angsty story! I would really appreciate any feedback you might have. I see you reading, so put in a quick review! I sincerely hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed taking this journey with Methos, Eleonore and 'their boys.' Cheers.**_

_Disclaimer: Highlander and its characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any money off of this, yadda, yadda, yadda._

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Eleonore stood in the shade of her favorite tree and watched as the breeze moved the branches lazily from side to side. It was days like this that called for her to be outside. She sat down on her quilt and reached for her basket of embroidery. She could spend hours to herself, enjoying the quiet and reveling in the beautiful weather. They didn't have too many days like this and she intended to take it all in while she could.

She heard the small snap of a branch behind her and smiled. "Methos, I don't know why you always feel the need to surprise me. I don't scare easily, you know."

Adam's distinctive voice snatched her away from any pleasant thoughts. "Don't you, mother? I should think you might want to be a trifle scared just now."

* * *

No matter how many times the quiver rose up the back of his neck, Methos always became frightened. The fear took different forms. Sometimes when he was expecting another immortal, the fear was short lived and replaced by anticipation of a friend. Other times, it was an anxious fear based on the unknown. Would he encounter someone who wanted to take his head or would his immortal brother or sister just want to pass the time?

This afternoon the buzz encompassed his head and shook him from concentrating on his chess game with Richard. This time, the fear sank deep in his stomach and nestled there, writhing in his gut. He knew it wasn't some random immortal crossing his grounds. It was someone he'd been expecting, but not someone who would want to simply pass the time. Adam had returned. He stood immediately.

"Father? What's wrong."

"Adam is here."

"How….."

"I feel him, Richard. Find a weapon."

Methos moved out of the sitting room and into the 'hall of death', as Eleonore jokingly referred to the room which housed his weaponry. He chose his favorite sword off the wall and began walking toward the patio. Instinct told him that Adam would be outside waiting beyond holy ground. As he walked through his home, he listened to the sounds of his footsteps on the stone. It helped him focus but it also resurfaced feelings long forgotten. Each time he faced another immortal he wondered if it would be the time Methos would finally come to an end. He may be the oldest immortal and, perhaps, the one with the most experience, but he was also confounded with all the feelings of a mortal man. He didn't want to die. If he had, he would have gladly surrendered himself hundreds of years ago.

But he didn't want to kill his son. Eleonore's son. He would find another way. He had to find another way.

* * *

"Why should I be afraid of you, Adam? You're my son." She stood and was surprised to find that she had to look up to speak to him. Had he always been so tall? How could she forget such a thing? "Where have you been all this time? Are you alright? Have you come to stay?"

Her questions were sincere but she hoped they belied her true feelings. She _was_ afraid. She hated to admit it to herself, but Adam's appearance here on the grounds rather than coming to the house as he'd so often done in the past told her something was amiss.

Adam's charming smile graced his handsome face. He circled around her as a hawk circles its prey. "My, my. So many questions. Oh, I've been quite fine, mother. Learning all I can about my newfound life. _Eternal_ life, so to speak."

The sensation at the back of his neck wasn't new to Adam but it always filled him with a great excitement. The game was afoot and soon he would have another head. This time, it would be the most treasured prize of all.

He saw Methos coming towards them with Richard close behind. Both of them brandished swords and both of them looked quite serious. He laughed to himself. What a lovely family reunion. This was going to be more fun than he'd ever anticipated. He knew Methos was in earshot. He waved and called out.

"Hello….Methos."

The silence hung in the air for a full minute until Methos closed the distance between them. He came alongside Eleonore and saw that Richard took up a position on the other side of his mother.

Methos regarded him with a nod. "Adam."

The young man's smile was in no way loving or warm. It was the grin of a predator. It was the face of his father.

"Aren't you glad I've returned home?"

"I think if you'd really wanted to be home, you wouldn't have stayed away for five years. And you would have come through the front door."

Adam's laugh echoed through the landscape. "You always did have a witty response to every situation. I suppose Richard inherited that from you."

His voice and face fell immediately. "Oh, wait. He wouldn't have inherited that from you, would he? Seeing as how you're not our father."

Methos could hear Eleonore and Richard's breath catch in their throats. Methos couldn't meet their eyes. The hurt evident in the people he loved was worse than anything Adam could do to him physically.

The tone in her voice was heavy with both confusion and pain. "What did he say? That's not possible."

Adam's eyes lit up. "She didn't _know_?" His laugh reverberated through the trees. "I could understand keeping such a secret from Richard and me, but how in the bloody hell did she not know, _Methos_? Please, enlighten us all."

He had to face the lie he'd allowed to continue for more than two decades. Methos turned to Eleonore and took her hands. He gathered the strength to look at her face. The uncertainty in her eyes tore through his heart.

"As much as I don't want to admit it, he's telling the truth. When I returned home, your uncle's stable boy was waiting for me. He told me you were in danger. I rushed to the estate and when I got there, I found you…and him." He took a breath and looked away. He couldn't meet her eyes. Didn't want to see the sting of his words tear open a wound that should have stayed closed.

"What are you saying? My uncle…..oh no. _No_." Her words trailed off in realization as the memories of that dinner fluttered to the surface. That night struggled to break through the walls that had held them in place for so many years. She swayed and her legs threatened to falter. Richard came up behind her and put his strong hands on her shoulders. He looked into the eyes of the man he'd called father his entire life.

"You were in his chambers. Drugged. I was so furious, I almost killed him. I swore that if he ever came near you again, I would run him through. I took you and brought you here. You didn't remember anything and I couldn't bear putting you through such anguish again. When you found you were with child I didn't have the strength to tell you the truth. Immortals can't have children, Eleonore. There's no way the boys are mine."

The tears that began to fall from Methos' eyes matched those escaping from Eleonore's. His breath hitched as he remembered the joy of her pregnancy. "I wanted you and I wanted the children inside you. You were my life, Eleonore. When the boys came into this world, I finally had a family. A family and normal life I'd craved for so long. I never wanted to cause you pain." He sighed. "It was selfish of me not to tell you. Arrogant and selfish. You had a right to know and in my stupidity I wanted to protect you. You're stronger than that, Eleonore, you deserved to know."

He looked at Richard. "You deserved to know as well, Richard. I may not be the father who created you, but you and Adam were as much my sons as if I'd sired you myself."

"This is so touching."

"Shut your mouth, Adam." Methos' voice was a low growl.

"You're just angry because you know you should have told mother long ago. Don't blame me for simply forcing you to come to terms with who and what you are."

"Who I am is your father. I raised you. I loved you both. I wanted to be the one to tell you, but you left."

"Of course I left. I knew you wouldn't be the one to truly teach me what I needed to know." He stepped forward and the tone in his voice grew rich with anger. "You were the most powerful immortal ever. You could have ruled nations. You could have had everything. But you simpered away and hid. That will not be my mistake."

"You came for my head."

"Quite right, Methos. Quite right."

Eleonore's head swung from Methos to Adam. The shock of Methos' confession gave way to the reality of who Adam had become. She understood why Methos hadn't told her of her son's immortality before his death. She understood his driving need to protect her…and himself. Now, she was faced with a choice of losing her son or her husband. Before she could speak, Methos calm voice filled her ears.

"No, Adam. You will not have it. I will not allow you to take my power and I won't take your head. There are other ways that this can end. Trust me when I tell you, you aren't strong enough to defeat me."

"You don't know what I've learned…who I've killed…in my time away. I'm stronger than you think."

"Stop it! Both of you!"

Eleonore pulled away from Richard and Methos. She turned toward her son. "I know you've had a darkness in your heart for a long time, Adam. But I won't accept that you would come here to destroy a family that's loved you and cared for you."

"Then you don't know me at all, mother."

She drew closer to her son and put her hand on his face. "If you've ever had love for me, please leave here. Please don't do this."

Methos' instinct raged through his body. She shouldn't be this close to him. She needed to move away. "Eleonore, come back."

Adam took her hand and looked into her eyes. He searched his heart, wanting to find a core of light. Something that might justify her love for him. As he looked into her eyes, all he saw was a life found wanting. He wouldn't turn away from his purpose now. The woman in front of him may be his mother, but, more importantly, she was a means to an end. The grip on her hand grew tighter and in a fluid motion, he spun her around so that her hand was held to her back. His left hand drew the same dagger that murdered Lord Arthur. He pointed it at her chest.

"As I said, you really don't know me at all, mother."

Methos and Richard's swords were drawn in an instant. Methos wanted to avoid killing Adam, but he could feel the fury begin to rise from deep within himself.

"Adam, release her. Do it now."

Richard wasn't as good at masking his anger. His voice was just below a scream. "I'll kill you if you hurt her!"

"Now this is more of the family gathering I'd imagined." The blade moved slowly up above Eleonore's breast.

Her voice lost its calm as she pleaded with her son. "Please, Adam."

"I'll wager you'll fight me now, won't you?"

Adam drove the blade into his mother's chest. He pushed her forward and drew his sword from his side.

"NO!"

Methos' anguished cry filled the air. He dropped his sword and ran to catch Eleonore as she fell. He turned her on her back and cradled her on his lap. Richard fell to his knees at his mother's side.

"Eleonore, I'll get Luke…we'll…."

Her hand went to his face in a soft caress. "Don't, my love. I think even this is beyond Luke's considerable talents." Her breath hitched in pain. "You must know that I love you. I've loved you from the first moment we met. Don't ever feel guilt for not telling me about my uncle. I know why you did it. I would have been able to take the truth with you at my side. But I know why…" She paused to take a ragged breath.

"Richard, I love you. Be strong, alright?" She looked from Richard back to Methos. "At least I'll die young and beautiful." The laugh that had begun in her throat changed to a strangled cough.

"Eleonore, I love you. Thank you for the life you've given me. Thank you…" The sobs drowned out Methos' words.

"You'll always be my William…" Her hand fell from his face and she closed her eyes with her last breath. Methos drew her to his chest and buried his face in her hair. The anguish in his heart overwhelmed him. It was a long moment before he heard Richard move.

"I knew you would destroy this family." Richard charged his brother.

Methos' head snapped up. "Richard, no!"

Richard charged at his brother, his sword in front of him. The training Methos had given him came back to him in an instant. Unfortunately, he was no match for a brother with five years of accumulated immortal knowledge and training. Adam easily sidestepped his bigger brother and struck him in the side with his blade. Richard staggered and fell forward on his knees.

Adam turned and, with a purposeful stride, moved to his brother. "I told you that someday I would show you what I was truly capable of, Richard. Console yourself with the fact that you tried." He lifted his sword, only to be met with the clanging of Methos' steel against his.

"Enough!" Methos life was falling apart around him. His wife was dead and his beloved son lay on the ground, his blood seeping from his side. He'd wanted to spare Adam for Eleonore's sake. His eyes moved to her still form. But she was dead now.

"You truly have no idea who you're dealing with, boy."

* * *

Luke and the others stood in shock at the edge of the grass. Ann had seen Richard and Methos run from the house and she'd alerted Madeline and Luke. The rest of the staff had heard the voices and come to see what was causing the commotion. They'd watched as Adam held his mother. They saw him plunge the knife into her chest. Madeline cried out. Ann fell to her knees. Henry had begun to rush forward, almost in time with Richard, but Luke stopped him. This was something far beyond their capabilities to help now. Luke knew there was no way he would be able to save Eleonore from a such a wound in her chest.

Adam, as they'd known for a long time, was a man capable of tearing apart their lives. Now it was up to their friend, Methos, to save the rest of them. For if he failed, they would surely all meet the same fate as Eleonore and Richard.

* * *

As he'd done when he faced the immortal who'd come for Eleonore, Methos allowed those emotions he worked so hard to suppress find their way to the surface of his mind. He walked slowly around Adam as the rage and hatred washed over him. He would now face up to the mistake he'd made in allowing the son of Lord Arthur to become the monster his father was.

"I thought you would have been smarter than to deny me my prize. I would tell you that mother and Richard might have lived if you'd just agreed to fight me." Adam smiled. "But, then, that wouldn't have been the truth. I would have killed them just as I'm going to decimate the rest of your so-called family. After that, I will begin my journey to do what you didn't have the courage to do…rule this world."

Methos should have been surprised at his overconfidence but he'd seen it time and again in his long life. The difference in Adam was that Methos truly believed he had the potential to do what other novice immortals couldn't. He mirrored Adam's movements. The dance moved in a slow but determined circle. Methos watched the young man for the signs of an approach.

Adam's right shoulder began to move upward ever so slightly. Methos knew this action preceded the young man's attack. He anticipated Adam's assault and, as effortlessly as Adam had fought Richard, Methos thrust his sword upward and blocked Adam's weapon. Methos used the force of Adam's blow and pushed Adam's sword downward, away from him. In the next instant, Methos brought his blade upward and slashed Adam through the midsection.

His son dropped to his knees and looked in shock upon the man he'd known as his father.

"Methos….father…"

"No, Adam. You made your choice." The fury had made it completely to the surface now. It coursed through every fiber of his body. He surveyed the boy he'd raised as his own and wept with rage at how completely he'd failed him. "I would have helped you, Adam. I would have shown you how to live this life in peace." His eyes moved to see Richard lying on the ground. His movements were slowing.

"You destroyed everything I loved. Everyone who loved you. The man I was with Eleonore is gone now. You wanted to see Death, Adam. Here he is."

With one swift motion, he brought his sword in an arc around his side and separated Adam's head from his body.

He stood and waited for the quickening to take him over. While he did, he stared at Eleonore's lifeless body. The silent tears turned to a cry of anguish as the electricity wound its way around his body. The visions flashed through his head and he pushed them back into the corner of his mind that held his vile memories.

When it was over, he rushed to Richard's side. As he'd done with Eleonore, he cradled Richard's body in his arms and stroked his son's face. "Richard. I'm so sorry."

Richard's eyes opened. "No apologies. You were always my father."

"And you were always my son."

He held Richard to his chest and rocked gently back and forth as he'd done for him when he was a small boy. Richard's body began to relax as his life ebbed away. Methos continued swaying back and forth. Time was no more. He sat listening to the breeze moving through the trees. He looked to each of the bodies lying on the grass. Richard. Adam. Eleonore. All gone. Methos had felt loss before. He'd felt the pain and desperate loneliness after the death of someone he loved. But he didn't think he'd ever felt such a throbbing agony in his chest. It overwhelmed him and he wept...he wept for a very long time.

* * *

Joe's voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry. So damn sorry."

The tears that flowed from Methos' eyes were as pungent as those that had fallen that nightmarish day hundreds of years before. The pain had lessened but the memories were as fresh as if he was sitting on the grass of his estate today.

"We buried them on the grounds. All of them together. Eleonore and her sons. It was fitting." He walked over to the window and watched as the clouds moved lazily across the sky. "I left within a week. I gave the estate and most of my money to the staff. They'd been my family. My confidants. They didn't want me to go, but I couldn't stay in a place that would haunt me day and night."

He sat on the window seat. "If she'd died naturally, I could have stayed knowing she'd lived a full life. But when I looked around, all I saw was the fact that my deception, my cowardice, had murdered her as surely as her son plunging his knife in her chest. I needed to find a new life. To start over."

Methos took a long drink of the fresh beer he'd gotten earlier. The burn of the alcohol filtered down his throat. "That's when I began using the first name of Adam. I wanted to remember. I wanted that name to remind me of the mistakes I'd made. I needed it to make me worthy of Eleonore's memory. I don't know if that will ever be possible."

"I'd try to say something wise and comforting right now, buddy, but I got nothin.' I don't think you caused her death, though. Adam was the kind of immortal that comes along very rarely. You did the only thing you could. If you'd loved him any less, you probably would have taken his head after his first death."

Methos shook his head, acknowledging Joe's attempt at consolation. "I know. I've gone over and over the choices I made. But, in the end, it doesn't change what happened. I'd been given the gift of a brief time of normalcy in my life. Another small moment in time where I could just love someone, actually have children, albeit not my own...but it was over as soon as it began. In less than an hour, my world was shattered. Again. It shouldn't be a surprise to me, really. I've had many wives and lovers in my perversely long life. They all died. I should just be content that I can remember them at all, right?"

He wiped his face and sighed deeply. Turning around, he looked at Joe and smiled. "Well, this was quite enough melodrama for today, don't you think?"

There it was. Joe knew Methos was sweeping aside his feelings as he so often did. He was hiding behind the carefree persona. "Methos, it's alright."

"Oh, Joe, don't think twice, it's alright. Good Bob Dylan song, there. Let's go get some dinner. I'm starved."

He knew it was pointless to try any more in depth discussion with the immortal. After all, he'd just bared his soul and revealed probably one of the most painful memories in his long life. He deserved some slack. "Okay, okay, whatever you want. Just don't say I never listen to you."

"Fine. Just don't tell Duncan that I cried like a baby."

"Nah. Not a baby...a weepy teenage girl, but not a baby."

Methos laughed and clapped Joe on the shoulder. It was good to have a friend. Even if it wouldn't last forever.


End file.
